Blast from the Past
by GallaudetLurker
Summary: In May 2015, Gibbs visits Norfolk on the tenth anniversary of Kate's death to pay his respects. What happens to him next is not what he expected. Eventual Kibbs.
1. Forward to the Past

**A/N:** I decided to run a fine comb through this chapter, and here's the result. I don't know if I'll do the same to other chapters, but we'll see. As for the other story, _From Panama with Love_, I'll get around to it eventually.

With all that said, read and enjoy. Reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own NCIS. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One:<strong>  
>Forward to the Past<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p><em>May 24, 2015<em>  
><em>2:30 AM<em>  
><em>Gibbs Residence<em>  
><em>Alexandria, VA<em>

He had never believed in second chances. Until now.

Special Agent-in-Charge Leroy Jethro Gibbs grunted as he sanded one of the ribs of the skeletal boat he would burn down once he was finished with it. His arms and shoulders were aching with the continual exertion, yet he continued on. The pain was a welcome distraction that kept him focused on the task at hand.

Pausing to blow the sawdust away, his arms crying out in relief, Gibbs frowned as he felt the rib's surface and resumed his work, welcoming the pain that radiated through his arms once again. Several long moments of torture continued before he paused to check the rib, and he nodded in satisfaction.

Placing the sander on his crafting table, Gibbs stretched, feeling the satisfying crack of bones in his back. He went over to a smaller table in the back of the dimly-lit basement and grabbed a dusty mug from a nearby shelf, filling it with Maker's Mark Kentucky bourbon. He downed it in one gulp, savoring the strong taste of the liquid that went down his throat.

Feeling the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach intensify, he refilled the mug and took a sip this time. Leaning against the table, he watched the unfinished boat, remembering the first time he had taken up woodworking. He'd begun it shortly after he married Shannon, building toys for his daughter Kelly on occasion, but it didn't become his daily habit until their deaths years later. His early attempts ended in piles of smashed woods before he picked up on it.

His thoughts turned to the events in the past four months. The brutal murder of his ex-wife Diane Sterling in January set off a chain-reaction of events that left his team reeling from Sergei Mishnev's onslaught. The sniper attack on Anthony "Tony" DiNozzo in his apartment that left him grievously wounded. Timothy "Tim" McGee gunned down by a redhead while on a date; he survived by the skin of his teeth. Abby Sciuto attacked by a knife-wielding assailant at her apartment. Eleanor "Ellie" Bishop targeted by a suicide-bomber. The detonation of Dr. Donald "Ducky" Mallard's beloved Morgan on his driveway. The kidnapping of his assistant, Jimmy Palmer, by a deranged criminal bent on draining his blood away. And not to mention, the raid on his house by Mishnev's mercenaries.

Exhaling through his nose, Gibbs drained his bourbon. For some reason, the basement seemed to be closing in on him, and he decided to get out of there. There was something he had to do, after all. Grabbing his overcoat, he left the basement for the kitchen, retrieving the bouquet of flowers from his near-empty fridge before leaving the house.

Rain pelted down on him as he put on his overcoat, and he allowed it to wash over him for a moment before heading to his battered, gray Ford truck. Seconds later, he was speeding down the darkened street in the general direction of the freeway. As he merged into the freeway, ignoring the rapid back-and-forth motion of the windshield wiper, he glanced at the bouquet.

Daisies and lilies, her favorites.

He felt his chest constrict and turned his attention to the highway. Changing lanes without signaling, cutting off the car there, he reached for the coffee – only to grab nothing but air. He cursed himself for forgetting the most important thing in his life, but then decided he'd live.

A heart-shaped face appeared in his mind, her hazel eyes peering out from under her wavy brown hair, a soft dimpled smile on her lips. His heart wrenched, and he felt sadness sweep over him. He missed her so damn much that it hurt, and wondered how he was able to go on like that for so long.

Today was the tenth anniversary of Kate's death.

It had been so long since he last saw her, heard her voice. Not a day passed that he didn't think about the brunette who had worked for him for nearly two years. Not a day passed that he didn't agonize over what he considered as the greatest failure in his life. Not a day passed that he didn't see her violently jerk, blood erupting from the back of her head as she collapsed to the ground.

He was driving to Norfolk to pay his respects, placing flowers on the site where she had been shot. This was a personal ritual that he had followed for years, and he'd be damned if he missed it. He'd once visited her grave, on the first anniversary of her death, and it proved too much for him. Norfolk was easier to bear, as strange as it sounded. He remembered looking at the adjacent warehouse building where his long-deceased nemesis had taken the fatal shot, wishing fervently that day that turned out differently.

Over the years, he had vivid, recurring nightmares of that fateful moment. He would be standing in front of Kate on the roof. Knowing what would happen to her, Gibbs would try to warn her of her impeding fate, only to have the bullet pass through her head right at that moment. He would try to gesture with his hands, only for the bullet to strike her down. He would try to push her down, out of Ari's sights, only for the bullet to splatter her brain across the floor. Whenever he and Kate were heading for Norfolk, he would try to turn the car around, only for the bullet to shatter the windshield and her head. Whenever they were at Headquarters, he would try to convince her to stay in the bullpen, only for the damn bullet to hit her head out of nowhere.

No matter what he said or did, Kate died by a sniper shot to the head every time. Every. Damn. Time. He usually jerked awake, drenched in sweat, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind whirring. It was the reason he had difficulty sleeping on the anniversary of her death.

He clenched his jaw when other memories popped in his mind. Her body lying on the rooftop, blood pooling around her head. Her body lying in a black body bag on a slab in Ducky's Autopsy room. Her body lying in a flag-covered casket, the Presidential Medal of Freedom around her neck, her rosary bands and cross held in her hands.

He felt a single, hot tear running down his face. This was the only day of the year that he ever allowed himself that moment of "weakness". He would never forgive himself for putting her in danger – the fact that her job was dangerous, be damned – especially when he should've known that the surrounding buildings served as excellent sniper nests for a certain Mossad double-agent. He never forgave himself for helping her to her feet, when he should've kept her down and out of immediate danger. Because of this, his life changed forever. Cursing loudly, he slammed his fist into the steering wheel, ignoring the loud horn. Why didn't he keep her down? She had been injured, for Pete's sake! He should've known better, called in a helicopter or something.

Taking several deep breaths, Gibbs slammed hard on his accelerator, changing lanes without regard to other drivers. Aggressively tailgating a van and causing it to swerve into the next lane did nothing to make him feel better. Only coffee, bourbon, and her alive and well could do that.

As the shadowy outline of Richmond loomed through the pouring rain – which certainly reflected his bleary mood – he briefly thought about making a detour to get a much-needed coffee, but shook it away. He'd go without coffee all day if it meant honoring his Kate and punishing himself for the disastrous lapse in judgment that so cost him dearly.

Richmond passed him by, and his thoughts turned to that time he had accidentally called Ziva 'Kate'. That was in October of '06, and he had a particularly shitty day. Her name simply slipped out, and he almost gave himself a good slap for that. He did it again, in December of '13, and actually slapped himself, much to the surprise and confusion of his agents. There were moments where he believed that his Katie was alive and kicking, only to look over at her desk and see the ex-Mossad officer (and now the former NSA analyst) and have reality kick the crap out of him.

He let out a sigh, feeling like he had aged a hundred years in a single night. The rain seemed to pour harder the closer he got to Norfolk, and it got so dark at times that he had difficulty seeing the road in front of him. It was nothing short of a miracle that the Ford didn't skid off the road, spin out of control, or hit anything or anyone in the way. Somehow, he managed to get through Newport and Hampton without leaving a wide swath of destruction in his wake.

Turning into the largely-abandoned warehouse district, Gibbs squinted at the massive dilapidated warehouse that dotted the vast compound. As his destination steadily loomed in the distance, Gibbs' stomach began coiling hard as anger and sadness roiled inside him. As he pulled the car to a hard stop outside the warehouse that served as Kate's tomb, Gibbs thought back to that day. On May 24th, 2005, he and his team – Kate, DiNozzo, and McGee – had arrived, fully armed and ready to take down Ari Haswari's terrorist group for once and for all.

As if watching a vintage movie recording, he saw himself take Kate's Remington shotgun and fire at a nearby street lamp, alerting the terrorists on the rooftop. One of them appeared, and was shot down, his body tumbling over the edge and hitting the floor with a sickening thud. He saw himself run down the short alleyway between the warehouse and the red-bricked one next to it, Kate following him. DiNozzo was climbing the fire escape to the rooftop.

If only he could call out to them and warn them of what was going to happen, particularly her.

Shaking his head, Gibbs grabbed the bouquet and stepped out of the car, immediately drenched by the rain. Ignoring the clothes sticking to his body, his hair matting to his forehead, and the droplets running down his face, Gibbs looked up at the rooftop, squinting his eyes. He then passed through the open barbed-wire gates to a nearby side entrance, his feet feeling like lead with every step.

Grabbing the knob, Gibbs was surprised to find it unlocked. He usually had to pick the locks in his previous visits. Feeling his Sig Sauer securely sheathed inside his belt holster under his overcoat, Gibbs pulled the door open and cautiously stepped inside.

He found himself in a dimly-lit, enclosed room with several thick columns. Passing through it, he reached a larger loading area. Metal shelves filled with cardboard boxes of varying sizes dotted the floor. He could see piles of wood packaging materials and red and gray barrels haphazardly scattered across the floor, along with a couple of large forklifts. It was just like he remembered it.

There was no stirring in his gut, so Gibbs took it as a cue that it was safe to proceed. He went deeper into the abandoned warehouse, his eyes adjusting to the lighting, heading in the general direction of the stairwell that led to the rooftop.

Suddenly, gunfire rang out.

His well-honed instincts kicking in, Gibbs dove into cover behind a nearby square column, his Sig instantly out. The rapid sounds of the bullets striking the column made his eardrums recoil. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Gibbs switched the safety off, and after checking to make sure his gun was loaded, he cautiously peered around the corner to get a bearing on his mysterious attackers–

Another hail of bullets shot out, and he instantly pulled his head back just in the nick of time as the bullets nicked the corner where his head had just been. Had he somehow stepped into an ambush? If so, how did he not see it? Who was targeting him at four in the morning? And more importantly, why didn't his gut alert him as it usually did in the past?

Tucking these questions away, Gibbs steeled himself and leant out of cover, rapidly firing in the direction of the assailants. Not knowing if he hit his targets, he scurried forward to a nearby state police and slid into cover once more. As he took several deep breaths, Gibbs was about to reload his Sig when he suddenly realized something.

He was completely dry.

That wasn't the shocking part, though. Instead of the overcoat, dress shirt, suit jacket, and jeans he'd been wearing, he was now dressed in a long-sleeved dress shirt, trousers, and a bulletproof vest under his NCIS jacket. McGee's voice was ringing in his ear through the earwig. The Sig Sauer P239 had somehow been replaced by the P228. The heavy pitter-patter on the roof had stopped. And the police car wasn't there before.

What the hell? Gibbs' mind reeled in shock, confusion, and disbelief.

As he tried to make sense of what was happening, another burst of gunfire rang out, and he instinctively inclined his head. This time, however, it sounded like it came from a shotgun, and it was closer, much closer, as if it came from right next to him.

His gut recoiled this time as he felt a presence next to him. His martial instincts reacting once again, he turned his head to the side, ready to raise his pistol and fire. His eyes widened, his mind exploded, his stomach dropped to the ground, and his heart stopped right there and then.

Crouching next to him, firing the Remington over the trunk of the police war, was Caitlin "Kate" Todd.


	2. Past Dreams

**A/N:** Here's the second chapter, hope you like. Thanks to all of you who reviewed so far! And thanks for pointing it out, flootzavut. Didn't notice that typo the first time. :)

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own NCIS. I don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episodes, "Twilight" (2.23) and "Life Before His Eyes" (9.14). Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two:<strong>  
>Past Dreams<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p><em>May 24, 2005 (?)<em>  
><em>1:17 PM<em>  
><em>Warehouse District<em>  
><em>Norfolk, VA<em>

He had to be dreaming.

He _had_ to. It was the only logical explanation for what he was currently seeing and experiencing.

There was no way Kate Todd was right next to him. It was impossible, plain and simple. Kate had been dead and buried for a decade, yet she was right there, firing back at the mysterious attackers with her shotgun with a ferocity that he had admired in her, long ago. As if nothing had happened, as if she hadn't been shot. Yet.

How was this possible? Gibbs' stoically rational mind was screaming out in agony at the sheer impossibility of the situation. It was like he had stepped into the twilight zone where the laws of physics was violently turned on its head, where impossibilities became possibilities, where the dead apparently came back to life, and where time retreated into the past. This sounded like something right out of these future-something movies that DiNozzo kept yammering about, one that involved time travel and automobiles or something.

It was impossible, yet it happened. One moment, he was walking through the warehouse, intending to place flowers on the rooftop. The next, he was involved in a firefight in said warehouse, right next to a supposedly-dead person. Gibbs couldn't put his mind around it, no matter how hard he tried.

As much as his rational mind howled in protest, his frozen eyes could not deny the sight that was right in front of him. Gibbs began to blink hard several times, faintly thinking that it was all a trick, that she would fade away, that he would find himself alone in a silent warehouse once more. Yet Kate remained there, reloading her spent shotgun.

Apparently_,_ his eyes weren't malfunctioning due to his advanced age.

The intense gunfire that reverberated throughout the then-silent warehouse seemed to fade away as he continued to gape, wide-eyed, at the brunette next to him. The rational part of Gibbs' mind continued to insist that everything – the long drive through the pouring rain, the gunfight, the mysterious change of clothes, Kate Todd alive and well – had been all a bizarre dream, one as vivid and intense as the nightmares of Kate's murder. For an instant, Gibbs believed this.

For that instant that seemingly stretched into an eternity, Gibbs believed that he was actually sprawled out, asleep, beneath his boat in the year 2015, an empty bottle of bourbon on the floor next to his hand, dreaming that he was mired in a fierce gunfight at a Norfolk warehouse in the year 2005, with Kate Todd at his side, alive and well.

The loud shattering of the car's rear passenger window above his head, along with the sounds of bullets hitting the other side of the car's exterior, snapped him out of his thoughts, and Gibbs felt himself go on autopilot as he reloaded his pistol, waited for the gunfire to abate a bit, and then returned fire.

The crumpling of a terrorist to the ground indicated that he'd hit his target. There were several left. As Kate unleashed fire with her shotgun, Gibbs got out of cover and scurried to a nearby concrete wall that obscured him from the terrorists ahead. Another pained yell and the thudding sounds of a body hitting the ground indicated that another terrorist had been taken out.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, to little avail, Gibbs gave a furtive glance at Kate over his shoulder before squaring himself, leaping out of cover, and mowing the third terrorist down in a furious hail of bullets. The fourth one crumpled to the ground in a bloody heap courtesy of Kate's well-aimed shotgun blast. The fifth and final one was difficult to target due to his excellent cover position, but eventually he was disposed when Gibbs and Kate concentrated all their fire on him.

Adrenaline pounding through his veins, his mind tightly wound, Gibbs looked over at Kate once again. His eyes connected with her warm hazel orbs, and his breath caught in his throat as his heart constricted. The last time he had gazed into them, apart from the spiritual hallucinations, was right before he had gently slid her eyelids closed on that rooftop.

"Katie, you okay?" He found himself asking before he even thought of it, his voice sounding strained.

Kate nodded, slightly out of breath. "Yeah, I'm okay, I think..." Gibbs' throat felt thick as her voice, soft and sweet voice that he had not heard in exactly a decade, wafted to his ears. Had he been a lesser man, he would've broke down right there and then. He would have even embraced her in a long hug, never to let go. That would probably have freaked her out, and he would've been shot for sure.

Were it not for the situation, he would have chuckled aloud at this.

He nodded curtly, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, as he reloaded his pistol, and cautiously walked forward, searching for the stairwell door. As soon as he saw it, he paused once again as memories of that particular day began slowly filtering into his mind. The stairwell door, one that led to the rooftop, seemed to beckon to him, taunting him to run through it, to repeat history, to suffer the loss and anguish all over again.

As he gazed at the door, Gibbs' thoughts returned to the situation that he was in. The rational part of his brain continued to loudly insist that it was all a dream, yet doubt began seeping into him. As far as he could remember, his dreams, as vivid as they were at times, had never felt so real as they were moments earlier. Given that he had never been able to sleep easily or for long on the anniversary of Kate's death, he would've bolted awake by now. Everything that had assailed his six senses earlier felt far too real to be an oneiric manifestation of the mind. Moreover, his ever-reliable gut was turning and churning like there was no tomorrow, as if confirming the reality of the situation.

Suddenly, the door looked so ominous, so threatening, not only to him but to Kate as well. If his sneaking suspicions were correct – that he was somehow living through May 24th, 2005 all over again, as impossible as it sounded – that door was the point of no return for Kate. Once she passed through it, she would never come back through it.

Well, in a way, she would come back through it.

His first instinct was to keep her away from the rooftop, to send her to help McGee out, yet his gut told him that the ever-stubborn Kate would not accept it, and would probably ask questions that he didn't know if he wanted to answer. And even if she did go along with it, it still potentially left her and McGee exposed, not only to the AK-47-wielding terrorists on the rooftop but also to—

Gibbs' eyes widened slightly as realization hit him. Ari Haswari. That bastard was probably waiting on the rooftop of the building right over, his sniper rifle ready and waiting to unleash a projectile that would, ironically, be called after the brunette agent next to him. If everything went the way they had the first around...

His jaw tightened and the coil in his gut wound up further as the memory of the back of Kate's head exploding, her blood splashing over DiNozzo's stunned face, her lifeless body crumpling to the floor, her glazed-over hazel eyes peering into his, surfaced in his mind. If this was what he thought, he was not going to let Ari Haswari win for the second time. Ari was not taking away his Katie this time.

The first time around, he had not known that Ari's true target had been Kate as to cause him great pain and grief. Now he knew better.

Even so, he wasn't sure if he should proceed on to the rooftop, to expose her to Ari's crosshairs once again. But he knew that, if his memories served him right, one of the terrorists on the rooftop would launch a drone strike at a large gathering of families and relatives of the Navy sailors which ship was slowly sailing into one of Norfolk's piers across from where they were at.

"Gibbs?"

Upon hearing his name, Gibbs blinked and turned to Kate. Her eyes were filled with confusion and concern. He didn't know if it was the threat of an imminent drone strike, or these hazel eyes, or the fierce determination to prevent her fate that welled up inside him, or the combination of all three, but Gibbs found himself sprinting toward the stairwell door, not needing to look behind him to know that Kate was right on his heels.

As he pushed through the door, he swore he heard a faint, ominous laughter.

Bounding the stairs three steps at a time, Gibbs heard faint gunfire in the distance, along with DiNozzo's frantic words through his earpiece that he was under fire, and this prompted him to speed up. Bursting through the door onto the rooftop, Gibbs squinted his eyes against the bright mid-afternoon sun. The warm weather – with a clear, beautiful cerulean sky – was in direct contrast to the gloomy, stormy weather that had doused much of Norfolk in heavy rain moments earlier, and served as yet another indication of the strange...phenomena that he had experienced.

Seeing his Senior Special Agent locked in a furious gunfight with several terrorists a short distance away, Gibbs quickly fired off his pistol, causing some of them to turn their attention on him. One fired his AK-47 right at him, and Gibbs somersaulted out of the way to avoid the incoming bullets, rolled into his knees and returned fire. The terrorist crumpled down, and gunfire on DiNozzo's part silenced the next terrorist.

As DiNozzo and Kate focused their fire on the third terrorist, Gibbs crept alongside the sloping rooftop windows to where the lead terrorist clad in aviator sunglasses and dark orange sleeveless sweater vest was frantically maneuvering the joystick on a device that resembled a large reinforced briefcase. The terrorist swung around and aimed his pistol, but Gibbs swiftly finished him off before he could even squeeze the trigger.

Gibbs felt his stomach spasm as he watched the screen showing the missile cruising toward its target, remembering that McGee had been in charge of jamming the missile. "McGee, this thing is still flying!" Gibbs snapped into the radio transmitter built into the lapel of his jacket.

A spate of gunfire along with McGee's yells was heard in the background, which caused Gibbs' panic to mount, and for several nerve-wracking seconds, he hoped – _prayed_ – that his computer expert was okay.

"Boss, one of them shot my transmitter!" Gibbs let an imperceptible sigh of relief at McGee's voice, mentally noting that the agent's voice sounded younger. He didn't care about the transmitter, only that McGee was okay. In the back of his mind, he noted that his 2005 self wouldn't have cared as much for McGee as he did now.

"You know how to fly this thing?" DiNozzo looked confused as he looked at the controls.

Now that he'd finally got a good look at DiNozzo, Gibbs noted that the Special Senior Agent's looks was yet another indication of the change. Instead of a slightly mature man in his mid-forties who had seen and experienced a lifetime in a relatively short period of time, this DiNozzo looked younger, slightly slimmer, and radiated exuberance not fitting that of a man in his mid-thirties.

Mentally, Gibbs nodded in response to the question. Outwardly, he shook his head no. "No, but I know how to crash it," he readied his pistol. If he recalled correctly, it had worked last time, and would work this time around.

Hopefully.

Gibbs aimed his pistol at the device in tandem with DiNozzo, and fired repeatedly into it, completely short-circuiting it. Apparently it worked, as the missile abruptly careened off-target and crashed harmlessly into the ocean with a violent splash.

Feeling relief course through him at the successful prevention of a drone attack that would have ended in hundreds of casualties, Gibbs was about to run over to the end of the rooftop to ask McGee – unconsciously replicating his actions last time – if he was okay when he suddenly realized something – or _someone_.

Kate Todd.

Feeling protectiveness wash over him, and knowing perfectly that McGee was okay, Gibbs opened his mouth: "Kate! DiNozzo! Get into cover!" As confusion crossed his agents' faces, Gibbs reloaded his pistol and aimed it at a nearby side door where a terrorist would open it seconds later and try to target him.

As if on cue, the aluminum door slowly opened, and before the terrorist even had the chance to aim his weapon at him, Gibbs pumped him full with lead. As the terrorist fell through the door and down the short steps to the ground, dead, Gibbs noted with satisfaction that Kate would not be sore this time.

Only one thing left.

Reloading his pistol, Gibbs turned to Kate and DiNozzo, only to find them staring at him, mouth agape. Feeling annoyance, concern, and slight panic wash over him, Gibbs shot them the 'Glare'.

"Did I stutter?" He growled. "Get into cover, and stay down! We're still in danger." When a second passed, and they did nothing, Gibbs exploded impatiently. "_Now!_"

This time, Kate and DiNozzo promptly obeyed, getting into cover, crouching behind the metal parapet that surrounded the rooftop. Satisfied that Ari wouldn't be able to get any of them here, especially his Katie, Gibbs did the same.

"Uh, Boss?" DiNozzo spoke up, confusion etched on his face. "You said we're still in danger?"

"From what? I thought the coast was clear," Kate said curiously.

"'Thought' being the key word." Gibbs turned to the radio transmitter embedded in the left lapel of his jacket.

"McGee!"

"Yes, Boss?"

"Get air support. We've got a sniper. The building over." Gibbs didn't see Kate and DiNozzo's eyes widen slightly at this whispered revelation.

Upon McGee's affirmation, Gibbs cautiously peered over the metal fence to gaze at the building right over, squinting his eyes slightly to try to ascertain where Ari was. He saw nothing, and supposed that either Ari wasn't there anymore or he was really good at hiding himself. Just like last time.

Soon, an armed helicopter appeared in the distance and headed toward the building that Ari was on.

If this didn't flush Ari out now, Gibbs was more than happy to do it personally, especially since he knew what he was going to do next.

Ari Haswari wasn't getting away with it. He would make sure of it.

Just like last time.


	3. Living in the Past

**A/N:** Thanks to those who reviewed! Here's the update. It contains possible spoilers, so be forewarned.

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own NCIS. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three:<strong>  
>Living in the Past<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>The dimly-lit bullpen was largely silent, with many agents having left for home. It was night, and the windows blended near-seamlessly into the dark sky. It was raining heavily outside as well, and Gibbs found it very interesting, given that it had been raining hard in Norfolk that morning in his time.<p>

He still didn't believe in coincidences, though.

As much as he enjoyed the solitude, Gibbs' mind was all but tranquil as he recalled the previous twenty-four hours of what had been the most strangest day in his life. Upon returning to D.C., with Kate alive and well and sitting in the front seat of the Dodge Intrepid instead of lying dead in the back of the NCIS Emergency Response Van as had been the first time around, Gibbs had gone straight back to NCIS headquarters and forbade his team, Abby, and Ducky from going home for the night.

Ari wasn't getting to any of them as long as Gibbs could help it.

The disquiet and disorientation that he had initially felt in the warehouse returned in full force as he got out of the car, strode across the Evidence Garage, placed his face at the retina scanner, stepped into the elevator, pushed the third floor button, and entered the squad room, with Kate at his side the whole time.

As he looked around the bullpen, an old saying appeared in his mind: the more things changed, the more they remained the same. The bullpen looked mostly the same, yet something felt fundamentally different. Gibbs couldn't quite put a finger on it, and if he had been able to do so, he would have equated it to a military man returning to his home after ten years, to find the house largely the same yet drastically different.

He glanced over to the side of the squad room, and nearly did a double take: the NCIS Most Wanted Wall, located in the corner area of the room.

Taking several steps to get a closer look, he noticed that only six names were on the list, including Ari and Osama bin Laden, instead of fifteen the last time. Many of the terrorists he had contended with over the years were not there, and those on the list were not marked with red tape (which indicated that the target was either captured or killed).

It was disconcerting, to say the very least, and as he sat down at his desk, he marveled at how different it felt to sit there. The arrangements and placements of his reports, pens, phone, and even the computer monitors were different than last time. The same went for the files on his computer after he booted it up.

So here he was a few hours later, leaning back on his chair, having managed to complete his report of the day's events. His mind continued to rage as he thought about everything that had transpired so far. The strange time phenomenon. Seeing Kate again after a long decade. The gunfight in the warehouse. Saving Kate from Ari. No matter how hard he tried, he could not figure out how exactly he had been...transported back in time. His mind turned to the changes and implications that this phenomenon had brought to this present.

First of all, there was no Ellie Bishop.

She would not join NCIS for another eight years, and he wasn't sure whether she would have the opportunity this time around. She had, after all, joined to fill the void caused by the departure of Ziva David, who herself had filled the void caused by Kate's death the first time around. Although immeasurably happy that his Katie was alive and well and would continue to work under him, Gibbs had a heavy feeling in his heart at the thought of the beautiful blonde who had worked with him for over a year-and-a-half. As with Kate and Ziva the first time around, Gibbs would have a difficult time adjusting to Ellie's absence.

Then there was Ziva David herself.

Gibbs now knew that despite acting on her father's orders as Ari's control officer, Ziva had been secretly working with her half-brother under the mistaken belief that he was innocent of the crimes he had been committing as a 'loyal' Mossad double agent. He could, and would, not blame Ziva for her decisions, for she had been as much Ari's victim as he and his team had been. Since she had joined NCIS to replace Kate, Gibbs had doubts of whether Ziva would have a place in his team this time around. As far as he was concerned, she had more than earned his trust in her eight-year career. He could not help but hope that she would have the opportunity to prove herself this time around, and that she would still have a role in this team.

His mind went back to the idyllic experience he had after being shot at in a diner over three years earlier – well, in early 2012, actually. He never forgot the glimpse of Ziva's alternate future, where he had been haunted by the sunken, soulless eyes that glared at a smirking Tony DiNozzo in the interrogation room. Considering what had happened to her in Somalia, it wasn't difficult for him to figure out her possible fate. Gibbs' heart constricted at the thoughts of Ziva dying, and he hoped that he could prevent that from happening in this timeline.

The same went for her traumatic experience in Saleem Ullman's hands in Somalia in his actual timeline. He remembered she was never the same after being rescued, being more subdued, withdrawn, and sullen at times. He hoped that he could prevent that as well.

Like he had done for Kate earlier in the day.

His restless mind turned to Leon Vance and Jenny Shepard. The former, whom he had a good friendship and professional relationship with, would not become Director for another three years, and would not experience a devastating personal tragedy for another five years after that. The latter, whom he had a long, if tumultuous friendship and a brief tryst that ended in disaster after Paris, would replace Tom Morrow as Director the day after Kate's death – tomorrow in this reality, actually – and would serve in that capacity until her death in a shoot-out at an abandoned diner in the Mojave Desert three years later. Her death had devastated him, and he dreaded the possibility of it repeating all over again.

As with Kate, he didn't know how he would feel about seeing and talking to someone who had long been dead for nearly seven years – and someone else who he now no longer reported to. He remembered that his new professional relationship with Jenny had been very strained, to put it very lightly, at the beginning because he had taken his long-simmering anger and resentment out on her for abandoning him in Paris.

Gibbs' brain began to throb at the sheer amount of thinking he was doing, and he took in several deep breaths in an attempt to dispel some of his roiling emotions, to little avail. He needed coffee, he thought as he rubbed his temples.

His stubborn mind, however, turned to someone else, an old friend: Mike Franks.

His first boss and mentor, who had persisted on calling him 'Probie' much to his exasperation, and who had imparted to Gibbs the secrets behind the infamous headslap and the 'Glare', had been stabbed to death by a deranged Lieutenant on a rainy street outside Gibbs' house. His heart constricted and his throat choked up at the memories of holding the mortally-wounded Franks in his arms that terrible day in May of 2011. It had not helped matters when he'd found out later on that Franks had been suffering from terminal lung cancer and had months left to live.

Like a holographic projector, his mind turned to his father, Jackson, who he'd been estranged from at this time. After successfully fighting back against Paloma Reynosa, he succumbed to a stroke four years later. Once again, he had been utterly devastated by this loss, and as with Jenny, Gibbs wasn't sure how he would deal with seeing his father again.

He let out a soft groan, his mind still throbbing, as he thought about his enemies, many which were long dead in 2015, but were alive and kicking at this time. Ari Haswari. Kyle Boone. James Dempsey. Mamoun Sharif. René "La Grenouille" Benoit. Saleem Ullman. Riley McCallister. Paloma Reynosa. Jonas Cobb. Harper Dearing. Ilan Bodnar. Benham Parsa. Sergei Mishnev. The list went on and on.

He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling as his headache intensified at the unwelcome prospect of apprehending or killing all these criminals all over again. Each of these villains had taken considerable effort, physically and emotionally, on his and his team's part to take down, and he was definitely not looking forward to dealing with them again.

Well, Ari was the exception to that rule. Gibbs wouldn't mind seeing Ari die all over again, preferably at his own hand. He would take great satisfaction seeing the life fade out of Ari's eyes, even if he had not committed the unforgivable sin of killing Kate. This time, he had been _planning_ to kill Kate, and that alone was unforgivable in Gibbs' eyes. Nobody targeted his Katie and lived, _ever_. Even _merely_ conspiring was itself enough to receive the death penalty in the Court of Gibbs.

He rubbed his temples more vigorously. How the hell was he going to deal with all this? Going through it all over again?

"Gibbs?"

At the sound of his name, Gibbs blinked a couple of times and looked over to see Kate standing in front of his desk. As he looked at the brunette, who was biting her lower lip and fidgeting with the hemline of her blouse, Gibbs recalled that the 'next time' he saw her, after her death, was her vengeful hallucination who angrily berated him for getting her killed and maliciously suggested that he commit suicide to atone for this cardinal sin. This time, she was not a spiritual manifestation of his guilty conscience, but a living, breathing person who had survived Norfolk.

Gibbs swallowed. "Yeah, Katie?"

Kate smiled a little at the use of her nickname, then her expression became serious. "Um..." she looked like she was trying to find something to say, and for once in his life, Gibbs did not feel a modicum of impatience that he usually felt whenever others took too long to express themselves.

"Are you okay?"

Gibbs blinked at this unexpected question. A part of him wanted to laugh at the incredulity of this question. She had been targeted for death by Ari Haswari, and was actually close to lying in Ducky's morgue had Ari gotten his way, and she was asking _him_ if he was okay? At the same time, another part of him was touched by his agent's concern for him, even if he did not deserve it.

After all, Ari's hatred of him made her a target by association.

The end of his lip twitched, and Gibbs nodded his head curtly.

"Had a long day today," he gestured with his hand a bit. He could have left it as that, but his mind had a mind of its own. "Are you okay?" He reiterated Kate's own question. Kate looked like she was about to smile in bemusement, but then she spoke.

"Had a long day today." Gibbs couldn't help but laugh at her reply. It felt pretty...great, liberating even. The great weight that had been placed on his heart, the disquiet that had been coiling in his gut, and the confusion that had been roiling around in his mind, began to lighten, and he found that he could breathe a little easier than earlier. His headache had even begun to abate a little.

"We all did, Katie," he said, a small lopsided smile now gracing his face.

Kate nodded. "Yeah..." she mumbled, and Gibbs couldn't help but get this feeling that she wanted to ask something else but wasn't sure whether she could vocalize it. Given his new-found, if not a tad uncharacteristic, patience, Gibbs waited for her to say it aloud.

She did not disappoint him. "Um...can I ask you a question?" She asked uncertainly, and Gibbs found himself smirking a little.

"You just did," he quipped, and Katie rolled her eyes as her lips curled up a little.

"Of course," she said as she pondered over her next words. "How did you know that terrorist was going to come out of that door?"

Gibbs was silent as he gazed at her, mulling over his next words carefully. Kate must've misinterpreted his expression as confusion because she clarified her question: "What I mean is that, uh, you told Tony and I to get into cover. And seconds after that, that terrorist appeared, and you shot him down—"

Gibbs held up a hand, stilling her words. "I get it."

What could he tell her? He couldn't as well tell her that he knew what was going to happen because he was from the future? 'Well, Kate, the thing is that I knew that guy was going to appear because I knew what was going to happen. You leapt in front of that guy to defend me, and was shot dead by Ari soon after. Things were never the same again. Oh, and I'm from the year 2015, by the way.' Kate would definitely shoot him right there and then if he said that.

"It was a gut feeling." Technically, it was the truth, given that his gut had always alerted him to danger before it appeared. And technically, he had this feeling that the terrorist would appear through that side door, even if it was knowledge of the future.

To his mild surprise, Kate looked like she didn't believe his answer – not that he expected her to, given that she profiled people for a living. "Right." Her eyes were narrowed slightly, and Gibbs inwardly wished he could convey the truth in a way that she would not think that he'd snapped at last.

The ends of Kate's lips then curled up in a slight smirk, and dread began stirring in his gut. "So, it was a gut feeling that a sniper was somewhere nearby? Is that why you were so adamant that we get to safety?"

Gibbs stared at her, his slightly widened eyes betraying his surprise at her words.

So she had overheard his command to McGee. How could he adequately explain that to her? He wasn't sure if his gut feeling explanation would hold up under her scrutiny this time, even although he could plausibly say that he'd inferred that Ari Haswari would target her as to cause him pain – which was true.

He opened his mouth, his throat suddenly getting dry, as he tried to translate the thoughts whirling around in his mind into coherent words. He really needed coffee now.

"Ah...we were on the top of a warehouse, Katie," he began by way of explanation. "There were other buildings nearby, and it wasn't too difficult to infer that there would be snipers there to pick any of us off." He felt proud of himself for coming up with a hopefully convincing explanation that didn't disclose the fact he was from the future or that Ari Haswari was specifically targeting her.

Kate surveyed him for a moment, and for an instant, Gibbs felt like a suspect confined in the interrogation room. His hands involuntarily clenched into fists, and he had to force himself to relax.

"You specifically mentioned a sniper, in the singular sense, and you specified the building over," Kate spoke as she walked closer to Gibbs. His stomach clenched further as her vanilla and strawberry scent wafted over to him. He hadn't expected her to be so attentive, and it indicated that he had missed her for too long.

"Um, uh..." Gibbs tried to think of another explanation when Kate spoke once again.

"Was it Ari?"

Gibbs inwardly frowned, not liking the sound of that bastard's name passing through her lips at all.

"Yeah, it was him," he conceded with a casual shrug.

Kate nodded slowly. "How did you know?" she inquired after a moment.

Gibbs was silent for a moment as he combed through his overburdened mind, trying to come up with something without betraying that he was from the future.

"He's a bastard," Gibbs settled on saying. "Wasn't too hard to figure that he would want to pick any of us off in case his drone attack failed." He narrowly avoided slipping up and saying her name.

Kate's eyes twinkled a bit. "Takes one to know one, huh?" she grinned teasingly.

For the second time that night, a wide grin crossed his face and he let out a laugh. Kate joined in the laughter.

"You could say that," he said.

A comfortable silence descended upon the two of them as they continued to look and smile at each other. As he gazed at the brunette, Gibbs was overcome with a sudden urge to reach out and take her into a long hug. He'd missed her for far too long, their banters, their conversations, all of that. He's never thought he would ever get the chance to talk with her again in a way that did not involve dreams or hallucinations.

Not wanting to give into this temptation and risk getting shot, Gibbs swallowed and got up from his seat. "Want some coffee?"

Kate blinked at the question before nodding."Um, sure. Thanks."

Gibbs nodded silently as he strode out of the bullpen in the direction of the lounge. He didn't see Kate's eyes trailing after his retreating back.


	4. A Shot in the Past

**A/N:** Thanks to those who reviewed! Here's the fourth chapter, hope you enjoy.

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own NCIS. I don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Kill Ari Part One" (3.01), even although some of them have been altered to fit this story. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four:<strong>  
>A Shot in the Past<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>In the mini-kitchen at the lounge room, Gibbs pushed several buttons of the coffee machine and listened to the gradual boiling of the liquid for several moments before grabbing two mugs and pouring it into them.<p>

The coffee brewed here wasn't as good or strong — hell, it _barely_ qualified as 'coffee' — as the home-made one he usually brewed at home, and it was the reason he'd went out and got one from a coffee shop around the corner the last time, but it had to do for now.

As he saw the containers of cream and sugar, he paused, debating with himself whether to do it or not. Finally, he grabbed them – and swore they burned his hands. Pain flared up in his chest, his guts began contorting, and his teeth gritted as he reluctantly poured and stirred the cream and sugar into Kate's mug, watching in horror as the black substance slowly swirled into a lighter shade of color.

His Katie was worth this torture, he told himself.

With the task finished, Gibbs strode out of the lounge, two steaming mugs of coffee in hand. As he re-entered the bullpen, Kate raised her head to look at him, and Gibbs wordlessly passed her a coffee mug.

Kate gratefully took it, cradling it carefully in her hands. "Thank you, Gibbs," she murmured, her eyes twinkling with appreciation. Gibbs nodded.

"Just so you know," he walked to his desk, "It..._hurt_, adding cream and sugar into your coffee." No Marine should ever suffer this cruel and unusual punishment, he added silently. "But...no pain, no gain, right?"

Kate chuckled, her eyes dancing with mirth as she carefully sipped her coffee. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, I suppose."

Gibbs' lips curled up into a lopsided smile.

A comfortable silence descended upon the bullpen once again. Gibbs sipped his coffee, trying to figure out what to do from now on, and how to deal with all this.

He couldn't tell them – Kate, Jenny, Leon, Mike, and so on – about the future, about what would happen in the years ahead, about what would befall upon them. Hell, he wasn't even sure of what he should do right now, beside from killing Ari as soon as possible. Even if he was resolutely sure of his next course of action, tracking his enemies down and nipping them at the bud would be a very difficult, if not nearly impossible, undertaking, given that they had not committed their crimes _yet_, and he did not know where they were located at this time.

His gut abruptly constricted, and Gibbs' eyes widened as realization hit him like a speeding bullet to the head.

Abby.

He shot out of his desk and swiftly made his way over to the elevator, missing Kate's confused gaze. As he impatiently pressed the down button several times, he resisted a strong urge to head-slap himself repeatedly. How could he be so _foolish_ as to leave Abby in her Lab, especially when Ari had tried to kill her the last time? Why the hell didn't he move her to the Evidence Garage or somewhere safe?

Cue mental head-slaps.

Another realization hit him, and he turned to his brunette agent. "Kate, come with me," he ordered. Although Kate was safe in the building, it was safer – and reassuring – for her to be at his side. Kate furrowed her eyebrows in confusion before she nodded and made her way over to Gibbs.

Just when he was about to bolt to the stairway out of sheer impatience, the elevator doors opened at last and Gibbs quickly stepped inside, followed by Kate, and all but slammed the button to the floor where Abby's Lab was on.

"What's going on?" Kate asked softly. Gibbs turned to her, his gut still turning and twisting.

"Gut feeling," he said cryptically, hoping against hope that it was wrong this time, mentally cajoling the elevator to descend faster. After what seemed like an eternity, the elevator at last bounced to a stop and its door slid open. Gibbs shot out, followed by Kate.

However, the second he ran through the elevator doors, a loud shot rang out, echoing throughout the hallway, followed by a pained scream. Gibbs' stomach constricted, full-blown panic coursing through him, his self-recriminating mind fervently praying that Abby, DiNozzo, and McGee were all right.

Bursting through the doorway, Gibbs immediately flipped the light switches, shrouding most of the Lab in darkness.

Putting a hand on Kate's arm to keep her behind him, Gibbs yelled out: "Abby! Tony! Tim! Are you okay?!" In the back of his mind, he realized that he had never addressed McGee by his first name before. First time for everything, he supposed.

"Boss, stay down! We're taking fire!" Gibbs let out a sigh, sheer relief sweeping over him at the sound of DiNozzo's voice. Apparently, DiNozzo and McGee managed to get Abby down just in the nick of time to avoid the bullet that would have shattered her head otherwise. Gibbs quickly scurried across the Lab, hitting the other switches; the entire Lab was now dark.

McGee wasn't so lucky.

"Boss...I think I'm hit!" he groaned in agony as he lay propped up against a nearby fridge next to the central window, clutching his left shoulder. Gibbs felt worry, anger, rage, and guilt course through him as he ran over to his agent's side. Using the dim light that filtered through the now-shattered arched window, he could see a gaping bullet wound in his left shoulder. Without thinking, he pressed his hands down hard onto the wound to try to stem the profuse bleeding.

"Tim!" Abby shrieked as she scurried over to his side, her dark eyes frantic with worry. DiNozzo stared in horror, and had Gibbs saw his face, it would've been very similar to the look he'd wore right after Kate had been killed.

"C'mon, c'mon..." Gibbs growled to himself. DiNozzo snapped out of his reverie and began searching around in the darkness for an emergency medical kit that Abby kept somewhere in the Lab. Thanks to Abby's frantic instructions, he and Kate managed to find it.

"Get him to Ducky! And stay low!" Gibbs barked as he and Kate pressed a large gauze over the wound to control the bleeding. He was dimly aware that McGee should be kept prone as much as possible, but time was of the essence, and there was a highly-trained doctor several floors away. Remaining crouching, he, DiNozzo, and Abby carefully hoisted the groaning McGee across the floor – well away from the windows – toward the door.

As soon as they were out of the Lab, DiNozzo and Abby kept McGee propped up, Kate keeping the gauze on his shoulder, as they hurried toward the elevator. Beating them to the punch, Gibbs slammed his palm onto the down button. Thankfully, the elevator doors immediately opened. Not five seconds later, the elevator was descending to the autopsy floor.

Gibbs felt pure rage and hatred boil inside him, directed at the man he knew was in a parked car across the Anacostia River. Attempting to target his Katie was one thing. Attempting to shoot Abby and actually wounding McGee was another. Even if what Ari had done to him and his team wasn't unforgivable, this was beyond the pale. As soon as McGee was tended to, Gibbs was fairly sure that he was going to high-tail it out of there and personally send Ari Haswari to Hell.

As soon the elevator door opened, Gibbs immediately strode into the autopsy room, followed by the rest of his team. Ducky had been washing his hands over the sink when he turned around, his eyes widening at the sight of McGee.

"Oh my dear! What happened?" The Medical Examiner exclaimed as he hurriedly wiped his hands dry and rushed forward to examine McGee's wound.

Ignoring the fact that Ducky had fewer wrinkles than the last time, Gibbs growled: "Ari is what happened." He'd spat the name out as if it was venom.

"Ari fired into Abby's lab in an attempt to target Abby, and McGee got hit instead," DiNozzo elaborated on his Boss's behalf, using the agent's correct name for once, as he and Abby helped McGee over to one of the steel tables and helped him on it.

"My Lord," Ducky whispered softly as he put on surgical gloves.

"He fired from across the river from Anacostia Park," Gibbs's voice was still strained. He felt guilt and sympathy well up inside him as he looked at McGee. Guilt because McGee was shot while shadowing Abby in her Lab, on his orders; sympathy because he knew exactly how it felt, having been shot himself. If only he had moved Abby to the Evidence Garage, then McGee wouldn't be suffering from a grievous sniper bullet wound in his shoulder.

He should have known right away that Ari had tried to shoot Abby in her Lab the last time, and would do so again this time. He mentally head-slapped himself several times.

"Are you hurt, Abigail?" Ducky looked over at Abby, who looked shook-up.

The forensics scientist shook her head. "No, I'm fine." Her lips were trembling slightly, and she was blinking faster than normal, as she continued to stare at McGee. Gibbs put a comforting arm around her shoulder and Kate rubbed Abby's back comfortingly.

"It is truly terrible, what Man can do to another like this, given sufficient determination and motivation, if not fanaticism," Ducky surmised as he finished inspecting McGee's wounds and began tending to them. "No one should have to suffer such a terrible wound as the one that Timothy here has sustained."

"You could say that, Duck," Gibbs growled through gritted teeth. Ari deserved to suffer such a terrible wound, right before he was viciously deprived of his life, and Gibbs knew exactly how he would do that.

"Did he try to hit you?" Ducky turned to look at Gibbs, who shook his head.

"No, he tried to snipe Abby. That means he's after my people, women first," he unconsciously glanced over at Kate. "And McGee is collateral damage, which to him is icing on the cake."

"That could mean he's torturing you," Ducky said with a slight shake of the head as he applied disinfectants on McGee's wound, causing him to let out a soft yelp of pain. "One cannot help but wonder what made him such a sadist."

"I don't give a damn!" Gibbs all but exploded, not caring at all about the reasons behind Ari's actions. That man was a thoroughly sadistic bastard with a petty grudge against him because he reminded him of his father, Mossad Director Eli David. Ari was beyond redemption as far as he was concerned. "I wanna kill that bastard!"

"The same goes for me," Kate spoke up, her eyes hard with determination. Gibbs knew she was thinking about what Ari had done to her in the past, and about her regret for not stabbing Ari with a scalpel in this very room last year.

"And me as well," DiNozzo said solemnly as he looked at the wincing McGee.

"And me," Abby growled slightly.

"Ari doesn't know what he's in for," Ducky had a ghost of a smirk as he put thick bandages over a fresh set of gauze. Gibbs had to agree.

Deciding that it was time to get back to work – the sooner they did that, the sooner they would apprehend Ari, and the sooner he would put a bullet between Ari's eyes – Gibbs turned to DiNozzo.

"DiNozzo, close off Anacostia Park between the bridges. Inform Metro cops it's a crime scene."

The Special Senior Agent blinked and nodded. "Will do, boss," he gave a last glance at McGee before leaving the room. Gibbs noted that he looked..._guilty_, which was understandable given the way he had treated McGee in the past. Gibbs turned to McGee.

"McGee, stay here with Ducky until he gives you the clear," Gibbs instructed. "As with the others, you are not to leave this building for the night."

The said agent nodded slowly. "Got it, boss," he sounded slightly pained, and Gibbs' gut coiled a bit before he turned to Abby once again.

"We'll get ya some bullet-proof glass, Abs," he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Abby gave him a reproachful stare.

"There is no such thing such as a bullet-proof glass, Gibbs!" she chided, and despite himself, Gibbs chuckled.

"Bullet-resistant glass, it is then," he shared a bemused glance with Kate.

"Gibbs...he's after me now, isn't he?" Abby asked softly, and his heart wrenched at the vulnerable look that passed over her pale face. It didn't fit her bubbly and joyful personality that he had long come to adore, not at all. Not wanting to see that look anymore, Gibbs shook his head.

"He's gonna get through me first, Abs," he said firmly, truly meaning it with all his heart.

"And me as well," Kate piped in, her words unintentionally causing Gibbs to swallow thickly. The first time around, Ari had, in a way, gotten through her.

Abby shook her head a little, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Surely, you're just saying that to make me feel safe, aren't you?" Gibbs shook his head once again.

"I mean it. I will keep you safe, Abs. I promise." He wasn't one to make promises lightly, let alone break them.

"_We_ will keep you safe," Kate interjected, giving him a look that caused a warm sensation to well up inside his heart.

A wide grin came across Abby's face, and she wrapped her arms around Gibbs and Kate, and pulled them close into a bone-crushing double-hug. "You guys are the best!" Gibbs chuckled as he patted the Goth on the back.

"I know," he said softly as he pressed his lips on the top of her head.

* * *

><p>Gibbs stood in the elevator once again, impatiently watching the position indicator at the top of the elevator, where the numbers steadily blinked toward the floor that the Multiple Threat Alert Center (MTAC) was located on.<p>

Despite his intentions to get his team – save for McGee – back to work as soon as possible, Gibbs had spent the better part of an hour with them in Autopsy. DiNozzo had returned in the meanwhile, informing that the Metro police found a .308 bullet casing and a set of tire tracks at Anacostia Park – confirming what Gibbs already knew – and that Director Thomas "Tom" Morrow wanted to see him.

After considerable effort, he managed to get Abby to file an incident report and to conduct inspection work on the Dodge Intrepid in the Evidence Garage. Despite his desire to have Kate stay with him, he had ordered her to help Abby out as well. The same went for DiNozzo.

The Evidence Garage was a safe place, after all. There were no windows for Ari to fire through.

He had also convinced Ducky to stay in the building no matter what, and McGee to rest. As he stepped out of the elevator, he tried to figure out what he would do next. Despite knowing that Ari was at the park across the Anacostia River, Gibbs wasn't exactly sure where he had gone afterwards, although he suspected that it was to meet up with Ziva somewhere. As his mind turned to the future ex-Mossad agent, Gibbs swore to do his best to convince her of Ari's duplicity as soon as possible. After all, she had shot Ari dead the first time.

As he entered the darkened MTAC room, Gibbs wasn't surprised to see a large number of high-ranking officials sitting there. One of them, a Mossad agent if his memory served him right, was pacing back and forth in the main area.

"What do you have, Gibbs?" Morrow spoke as soon as Gibbs sat down next to him.

"Not much," Gibbs glanced at the Director. It still felt funny to report to Morrow instead of Leon Vance, but he pushed the feeling down for the time being. "Metro found tire tracks and an empty bullet casing in Anacostia Park, where he fired a shot across the river into our forensics lab."

Morrow's eyes widened slightly. "Was anyone hit?"

"Not our forensics scientist, Abby, but one of my agents. He was hit while protecting her. He's been treated by the medical examiner, though," Gibbs' jaw clenched as anger and guilt coursed through him once again. "You'll read all about it soon."

Morrow exhaled as he turned to the screen. "Anything else in Norfolk?"

"Nothing much," Gibbs shook his head. "Except empty bullet casings and dead terrorists in that warehouse."

Morrow looked like he was about to grin at Gibbs' reply. "Are you sure Ari Haswari was there?" In his report, Gibbs had all but adamant that Ari had been at Norfolk, supervising the drone attack instead of preventing it.

"Yeah, had a gut feeling."

Morrow nodded slowly. "It's unusual for a sniper not to police his brass, isn't it?" he was referring to Ari Haswari's attempt on Abby's life.

"Yeah," Gibbs nodded, although he knew why. Ari purposefully left his casings at the scene, both to serve as a calling card and to taunt Gibbs and his team. He was a son of a bitch, after all.

"I suppose it's a good thing Ari Haswari did not succeed," Morrow remarked, "Otherwise, we – and other agencies – would probably have been out for his blood."

_Damn right_, Gibbs thought. "Especially the FBI," he said aloud. "He's their mole, after all."

Several moments passed in silence as the screen depicted a nondescript white van driving on a single desert road.

"You were a sniper with the Corps, weren't you?"

Gibbs gave the Director a sideways glance. "Two tours."

"Vietnam?" Morrow inquired. Gibbs chuckled slightly.

"I'm not that old, sir. I served in Panama and Desert Storm."

Morrow gave him an inquisitive gaze. "Thought you were older."

In a way, he _was_ older. Gibbs was about to open his mouth to reply, when an explosion suddenly reverberated through the MTAC as the van on the screen was suddenly engulfed in a large explosion. The Mossad agent who had been pacing earlier announced the results of the hit and the screen promptly switched to a colored NTSC test pattern. The audience began standing up and leaving the room.

"Where was I?" Morrow wondered as he stood up.

"Vietnam," Gibbs said with a smirk, standing up from his seat as well.

"Very funny," Morrow looked around the room. "But on a serious note, I can understand your anger, Jethro. He shot your agent and you want payback."

Gibbs thought that it was the understatement of the century, given that his anger was not only for the attempt on Abby's life and the actual shooting of McGee, but for his fatal shooting of Kate the first time around. He wasn't about to say the last part aloud, though.

"No sir," Gibbs lied right through his teeth.

"As understandable that may be, it's something we can ill afford," Morrow pointed out.

"Because of these people who are running him," Gibbs couldn't keep the bitterness out of his tone, even although he was aware that Ari reported to nobody but himself. "Those who are covering their asses right now."

"Make sure you cover yours when you bring him in."

Gibbs doubted very much he would bring Ari into custody alive. "Won't be a problem, sir, but I won't be bringing him in."

Morrow nodded. "Well, you're not gonna be my problem anymore, Jethro."

Gibbs knew exactly what his superior was going to say next, but he schooled his face into a vaguely confused expression. "You firing me, sir?"

Morrow let out a chuckle. "No, I've been offered the position of Deputy Director of Homeland Security."

"You'd leave NCIS?" Gibbs raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"Well, it could use some younger blood."

"Sir, if you're thinking I would replace you as Director, you've got another thing coming!" Gibbs had been acting Director a few times, and needless to say, he had _utterly_ loathed it with all his being. Doing reports all days, and brown-hosing to arrogant superiors had made him want to murder someone in cold blood with his bare hands.

"As much as I like you, Jethro, I wouldn't shoot NCIS in the head," Morrow chuckled, making Gibbs wince inwardly. "He's your problem now, Director," he said over his shoulder as he walked away. As if on its own accord, Gibbs' stomach began to churn, a lump suddenly forming in his throat as a female stood up from her seat somewhere in the front row and turned around.

His bluish-gray eyes met green ones, and he involuntarily took a deep breath.

"Hello Jethro."


	5. The Past Returns

**A/N:** Thanks to those who reviewed! Here's another update. Hope you like.

As a note, I believe that the more things change, the more they remain the same. Just because Gibbs has knowledge of the future, doesn't mean he can immediately go out and make big changes for the better. It doesn't always work that way. As a famous author once said, "The past is obdurate." Besides, I hope this story isn't going too slow. It will pick up the pace a bit once Ari is dealt with.

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. I don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Kill Ari Part One" (3.01), even although most of them have been altered to fit this story. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five:<strong>  
>The Past Returns<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>Gibbs stood transfixed at the sight of the red-headed woman standing in front of him, alive and well, free of the bullets that had killed her. She was dressed in a dark business jacket and skirt that accentuated her shapely figure nicely. Her green eyes seemed to penetrate him, and her thin lips were curled up in a slight smirk.<p>

Instead of a passionate battle for dominance in a Paris hotel room as was the last time, his mind flashed back to the sight of her mangled body lying in a pool of blood in the diner that day, surrounded by the four bodies of assassins that she had successfully fought off; then to her cold and unmoving body lying in Ducky's morgue; then to her funeral; and then to the burning of her Georgetown mansion in her honor.

"Should we skip the 'you haven't changed a bit' bull?" Newly-appointed Director Jennifer "Jenny" Shepard inquired as she walked toward him.

Gibbs blinked out of his thoughts, and shook his head. "You haven't changed a bit." Jenny's lips twitched.

"Any problem taking orders from me?" She stopped in front of him, and Gibbs could detect a faint, bitter undertone in her voice.

"No, no problem," Gibbs shook his head. Unlike last time, he was not going to bring up their past. What happened in Paris stayed in Paris, and he wasn't about to have a feud with the new Director over something so trivial.

"That's good to know, Jethro," Jenny said, seeming to deflate a bit. Gibbs thought that she may have expected a rise out of him because of his...chauvinistic attitude.

"It's good to see you, Director Shepard," Gibbs' lips curled up in a lopsided smile.

She blinked at his correct use of her formal title. "The same goes for you, Jethro," she gave him a small smile before her 'business mask' slipped into place.

"Just to make it clear," she began to speak, and Gibbs let out a mental sigh. Very few believed him, preferring hard evidence that they would verify with their own eyes over an infamous 'gut feeling' that that had often than not proved correct — and not to mention, saved his and his team's lives — on countless occasions. "There is no evidence linking Ari Haswari to the crimes that you and your team accuse him of."

"Ari already shot one of my people, while attempting to target another," Gibbs threw his arms up slightly. "He's going to kill, and let me tell you, I will not let him get away with it." As much as he didn't want to get into an argument with her, he had to make it clear that he stood by his team no matter what. Any slight or injustice against them would never go unpunished.

"I'm just saying that you can't go around accusing people of crimes they apparently committed, solely based on that gut of yours!" Jenny insisted firmly.

"I'll let you know, Director, that my gut has proved to be correct on many occasions," Gibbs began walking toward the door, and Jenny followed him.

"That is also the reason so many agencies here and abroad have doubts about you and your team," Jenny retorted. "You may rely on your gut feeling, but these agencies rely on hard, verifiable evidence to corroborate your accusations, and you know it."

"Oh, don't I know it," Gibbs muttered, rolling his eyes as he stepped out of the MTAC, Jenny in tow.

"Don't make this difficult, Jethro," Jenny warned, narrowing her eyes.

"Don't plan to, Madam Director," Gibbs said offhandedly, walking toward the stairs.

Jenny let out a soft sigh and followed him. "Look, I don't want to get into any arguments with you, especially not on my first day as Director. We can continue this conversation in private."

Gibbs turned around to survey her for a moment, before glancing over to the near-deserted squad room below. "We can continue that over there," he tilted his head toward the bullpen.

Jenny raised a questioning eyebrow. "When I said private, I meant—"

"I know what you mean," Gibbs cut her off. "We could go to my house, but that's not possible with that bastard gunning for me and my team, is it? So...the bullpen will have to do for now. There's plenty of privacy around here at this time, anyways," he gave a nonchalant shrug. The last time, he and Jenny had went to his house, where they had a conversation about boats and other things.

"Not when one of your agents doesn't understand the meaning of privacy," Jenny retorted. Gibbs found himself chuckling. "DiNozzo's busy in the Evidence Garage, helping the others with something. Won't be back for a while."

Jenny stared at him with slightly narrowed eyes for a moment before nodding curtly. "Very well," she conceded. "Lead the way, Jethro."

"Glad to," Gibbs smirked slightly as he bounded down the stairs. Jenny shook her head as she followed him down the stairs. Entering the bullpen, Gibbs walked over to his desk and crouched down to a filing cabinet next to the desk.

Nothing.

Of course, Gibbs thought with raised eyebrows. For some reason, he didn't start using change bags until after Kate's death the first time around, and he supposed he could start doing so from now on. Shrugging inwardly, he sat down on his chair, and Jenny leaned against the side of his desk, facing him slightly, her hands crossed.

Without thinking, he reached over to his mug and brought it to his mouth — and spat the now-cool liquid back into the mug.

"Never thought I'd see the great Gibbs spit," Jenny had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"Learned from the best," Gibbs retorted sarcastically.

"You were always a quick learner, Jethro."

A slightly-awkward silence descended upon the bullpen for a moment.

"Do you still build boats, Jethro?"

Gibbs gazed at her with a raised eyebrow. Of course, she would bring up the topic of boats, like last time. "What's it to ya?"

Jenny shrugged. "Just a question."

Gibbs gazed at his dark computer monitor as he mulled over her question. "Yeah...still build them," he said with a shrug. What went unsaid was the fact he had been working on a new boat in the future, one named after a certain brunette, and which he had no intentions of burning in the end.

"Still working on the same boat that you were working on six years ago?"

Gibbs combed through his mind, trying to remember that boat. From where he had been from, it seemed like a long time ago. Realization lit up in his mind. "Nope," he shook his head.

Jenny quirked an eyebrow. "What happened to it?"

"Burned her," Gibbs said with a steady gaze.

Both of Jenny's eyebrows were raised. "Why would you..." she shook her head before realization dawned on her. "You named it after an ex-wife." The only response on Gibbs' part was the curling of his lips.

"Which one?" she persisted. Jethro continued to gaze at her.

"You know which one," he said, and she let out a soft sigh.

"Why didn't you change the name?"

Gibbs' lips curved into an ironic smirk. "Because every time I went out on her, I would think of Diane." Memories – some pleasant, many unpleasant – of his ex-wife Diane McGraw surfaced in his mind. "You can't change that."

Jenny blinked at him. "You could have sold it."

"And watch some other guy ride her?" Gibbs had a slightly incredulous expression as he leaned forward in his chair. Jenny suppressed a snort at his unintentional use of a double entendre.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs, you are a strange man," she said with a shake of her head. Gibbs's smirk was tugging at the end of his lips. "That's not what they all tell me," he quipped.

Jenny actually snorted. "So you say." Silence descended once again, and Jenny let out a slightly weary sigh.

"Jethro, there are people out there don't believe Ari Haswari would actually attack you," she breached the subject once again. "You may cite your trusty gut feeling, but you haven't provided any evidence to prove them otherwise."

"You think I don't know that?" Gibbs said with an inquiring gaze.

Jenny's lips tightened a bit. "Given that you rely on your guts too much, I'd have to say so."

Gibbs leaned slightly toward her. "You ever doubted me?" he asked softly.

"Professionally, never," Jenny admitted.

"So, why are you doubting me now?"

"I have to establish a working relationship with these people."

"These people will gladly throw you under the bus if it serves their purposes," Gibbs pointed out.

"Not if I do it to them first," Jenny smirked. "But that's how politics work, and a Director's job involves politics."

"Which I'm sure you're good at," Gibbs said.

"Indeed," Jenny nodded. "Now you see why I have to establish relations with all these people. How else am I to shake the money tree on the hill and work with sister agencies to have things go NCIS's way?"

"Well, you're sure good at having it your way, I'll give you that," Gibbs said as he leaned against his chair and intertwined his hands. He swore that Jenny's face went slightly red.

The elevator chimed, and Kate, Abby, and DiNozzo stepped out. Abby was holding a clear evidence jar containing several spent bullets.

"Boss! We found several .308—oh," DiNozzo stopped in his tracks as he saw Jenny. Gibbs could not help but notice the way Kate looked between Jenny and him with imperceptibly narrowed eyes and her thinned lips.

Jenny pushed away from the desk and strode over to them. "My name is Jennifer Shepard, and I'm the new Director of NCIS," she shot Gibbs a glance. "Please don't stop on my account." DiNozzo blinked and nodded.

"Oh! Of course not," he said with a slightly nervous grin. "I'm Special Agent Ant—"

"—hony DiNozzo, commonly known as Tony," Jenny interjected. "Yes, I know about that. It's nice to meet with you all," she shook hands with a bewildered Tony, a bemused Kate, and a curious Abby. "Jethro here was quite a chatterbox, kept on telling me about you all. He was even kind enough to provide me with your dossiers."

Gibbs let out a snort. "Let's not overstate my kindness," he said sarcastically, sitting up at his desk. He noticed Kate's lips curl up into a bemused smile. "DiNozzo, Kate, Abby, what do we have?"

"Well, boss, as I was saying, we found several empty slugs—"

"—which were found lodged in the car's trunk," Kate piped in, and DiNozzo gave her a dirty look. She returned it with an innocent smile.

"Thanks, Katie. I was about to get to that," he snarked. Kate narrowed her eyes at his use of her much-hated nickname, and Gibbs' jaw tightened involuntarily, not liking the way DiNozzo used Kate's nickname. "But yeah, we found them in the—"

"In addition to these slugs, we found two more in the right side of the car," Abby interrupted, and DiNozzo let out a defeated sigh.

"Those fired by that dirt bag in the warehouse?" Abby shook her head at Gibbs' question, her pigtails swaying slightly.

"No, these were nine millimeter slugs, Gibbs, which means—"

"—Ari fired them," Gibbs finished. Despite his knowledge that Ari had attempted to target McGee, he still felt anger well up inside him. Abby nodded, a sorrowful expression crossing her face.

"He missed with his first shot, hit the controller with his second," Gibbs leaned back in his chair. It didn't exactly hit him that Ari had initially tried to target McGee prior to shooting Kate the first time.

"And then there's the bullet we found at Anacostia Park, which you already know, Boss," DiNozzo spoke up as he walked over to his desk and sat down.

"Ya think?" DiNozzo looked chagrined, while Kate bit down on her lower lip. Jenny's lips curled up slightly.

"Is there anything else?" she asked.

Abby blinked a couple of times, pressing her lips. "Um, we're still kinda working on determining the type of sniper rifle that was used."

"And not to mention, we're still trying to match the tire tracks to vehicles," Kate said.

Gibbs nodded in satisfaction. "Good work, team." Kate and Abby smiled, while DiNozzo outright preened. Gibbs turned to Jenny.

"What do _you_ think, Director?" he asked pointedly. Jenny narrowed her eyes slightly.

"What _I_ think, Jethro, is that while you may have found some...evidence, you have not conclusively tied Ari Haswari to the attacks in Norfolk and here. You'll need more than a couple of bullet slugs, tire tracks, and a _certain_ gut feeling—" she said the last part in a sharp tone. "—if you want to nail Ari Haswari."

Gibbs was caught between amusement and exasperation as he looked at the Director.

"It was Ari, and we _will_ nail him. I give you my word," Gibbs said firmly.

"I will believe that when you actually bring him in," Jenny shot back.

"Oh, I'll be more than happy to show you his body in Ducky's morgue!" Gibbs retorted. Tony chuckled, while Kate and Abby stifled their giggles.

"Until then, you'll forgive me if I and the other agencies continue to hold your claims in doubt, Jethro," Jenny fixed him with a penetrating gaze.

"Whatever happened to the benefit of the doubt?" Gibbs prompted.

At that moment, the elevator doors chimed once again, and a figure stepped out and entered the bullpen.

The visitor wore a gray head cover, dark beige jacket with a NCIS Visitors Badge pinned on its front, white blouse, light beige baggy cargo pants, a Star of David pendant, and a bag over the shoulder.

Completely unaware of Gibbs' frozen stare, constricting throat, and churning gut, Jenny smiled widely and walked over to the visitor. She and the visitor gave each other a cheek kiss as a traditional greeting before turning to Gibbs and the others.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce you to Ziva David, from Mossad."

* * *

><p>As he gazed deeply into her dark eyes, Gibbs thought about how much he had missed his Ziver ever since she left NCIS – even although it wasn't as strong as the loss of Kate the first time around. He missed her endearing idiomatic mistakes (which he had mentally termed them as 'Ziva-isms', though he dared not voice it aloud), her daily banters with DiNozzo, her formidable skills as a highly-trained Mossad agent, along with many others.<p>

A small part of his mind marveled that he hadn't broke down, considering everything he had experienced today. Seeing not one, but three peoples – two of who were dead – in a single day would take a serious toll on a person's sanity.

"Gibbs?"

He blinked out of his thoughts as his eyes refocused on those around him. Jenny had a mixture of amusement and concern on her face. Tony and Abby had concerned expressions. Kate looked pensive as she surreptitiously glanced at the Israeli near her. Ziva blinked in confusion, tilting her head.

Gibbs clenched his jaw. He had to stop doing that. It was unbecoming of him.

"Ah. Name's Gibbs. Leroy Jethro Gibbs." He winced, wanting to give himself a hard head-slap for sounding so corny, like one of these spies in some movies. Jenny now looked outright amused, while DiNozzo was struggling to contain a grin. Gibbs gave him a hard stare, vowing to give him a head-slap later.

Ziva's eyes twinkled. "Director Shepard has spoken often of you." She walked over to his desk and held out a hand. Gibbs' lips curled up into a lopsided smile as he grasped it and returned the handshake.

"Nothing bad, I hope," he said, glancing at Jenny.

"Oh, ye of little faith," Jenny shook her head a little. "Ziva and I have worked anti-terrorist ops since 9/11. You just saw one today at MTAC."

"I enjoyed it, lotsa explosions," Gibbs quipped. Jenny barely held back a snort, while Ziva and Kate bit back their grins.

"Well, you'll have to thank Ziva," Jenny put a hand around Ziva's shoulder. "She acquired the intel that made the – how you say it – the explosions happen."

Although he knew perfectly well what Ziva was here for, Gibbs pretended to play dumb. "So, what's Ms. David doing here?"

"You can call me Ziva," the Israel spoke up before she realized it. Gibbs raised an eyebrow at her abashed face before nodding, wondering what would happen if he called her Ziver right here and then.

"What's Ziva doing here?"

"Haven't you figured it out, Jethro?" Jenny smirked. Gibbs fixed her a penetrating gaze, and she relented after a moment.

"Ziva here is a Mossad control officer, tasked with monitoring Ari Haswari's activities as a FBI mole."

"In other words, she's here to prevent me from whacking Ari, and I wouldn't be surprised if you were doing the same, Director," Gibbs remarked. Jenny and Ziva's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Well, somebody has to make sure you don't go gung-ho on Ari, especially without verifiable evidence of his supposed wrongdoings," Jenny replied sharply.

"Sir, I can assure you—" Ziva began to say, but Gibbs cut her off.

"Don't call me sir," Ziva blinked a couple of times before nodding. "Agent Gibbs, I can assure you that Ari Haswari is not guilty of any wrongdoing that you may suspect him of." Gibbs thought about how wrong she was, and he hoped he would have the opportunity to prove that to her, and soon.

"How do you suppose that?"

"I am his control officer," Ziva responded.

"Ah, didn't know the great Ari was a puppet," Gibbs remarked dryly, and Ziva narrowed her eyes once again, even although the corners of her lips twitched.

"Someone has to make sure that a person like Ari don't get...out of hand, so to say," Jenny supplied.

Gibbs gave a shrug of the shoulder. "Didn't know they promoted control officers young in Mossad."

"They have to," Ziva adjusted her bag strap. "The good ones are dead at your age."

"A shame."

"Why don't you tell her how you located Ari's supposed terrorist cell?" Jenny gestured at Ziva with her head.

"GPS fix off his encrypted cell phone. He wanted you to know the terrorists' location so you could stop the missile instead of him, which would have required him to blow his cover," Ziva interjected. Gibbs tried not to laugh aloud, knowing well that Ziva was deceived by Ari's lies.

"Only a NSA satellite can GPS an encrypted phone. Ari didn't know I had that asset," Gibbs pointed out.

"You give him less credit than he gives you. Who hung up first, you or him?" Ziva gave him a challenging gaze. As Gibbs tried to comb his memories of who had hung up first, she continued on: "Ari knows that a fix takes approximately twenty seconds."

"And not to mention, when Sharon visited Bush, Ari's cell in Hamas kidnapped Agent Todd here," Jenny supplied, and Gibbs involuntarily clenched his jaw at the memories of his Katie in Ari's custody not once, but twice. "He could've killed her, but instead he freed her so she could warn the Secret Service. If he was what you insist, why did he do that?"

"Well, if you're so _certain_, why don't you arrange a meeting so Ari can tell me that himself?" Gibbs retorted. All the more reason to nip it in the bud...

"Ari is not a bad person," Ziva piped in. "He is a Mossad operative undercover in Hamas. He has not turned on us or you."

Yet, Gibbs thought grimly.

"Jethro, even if you're right, we still need to provide proof. You know that." Gibbs sighed at the Director's pointed words.

"That is all we ask," Ziva nodded. "Do not kill the wrong man."

Ari was definitely not the wrong man, and Gibbs was definitely going to kill him with extreme prejudice, but he bit his tongue and nodded reluctantly. Satisfied, Jenny turned to Ziva.

"Ziva, inform your Deputy Director that, even although Ari Haswari may be a suspect, no action will be taken against him unless we have evidentiary proof. Proof before action." Gibbs tried to ignore that the last part was subtly directed at him.

As Ziva gave her affirmation, Gibbs felt exhaustion – after everything he had been through today – overcome him at last.

Looking around the bullpen, he caught Kate looking at him, looking concerned. She gave him a small smile. He returned it.


	6. Past Confrontations

**A/N:** Here's the update, hope you like. I appreciate the reviews, and thanks for catching that typo in the previous chapter, flootzavut.

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. I don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Kill Ari Part Two" (3.02), even although most of them have been modified to fit this story. Any resemblance to real dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six:<strong>  
>Past Confrontations<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>Not for the first time, he wondered if he was dreaming.<p>

The torrential rain pounded heavily against his soaked clothes. He paid no attention as he walked through the barbed wire gates toward the warehouse, clutching the bouquet of flowers. He picked the lock of the side door and entered a dimly-lit room, passed through the cluttered loading area, and walked through the stairwell door leading up to the rooftop.

As he ascended the stairs, he couldn't help but get a disquieting sensation that had been bothering him for some time now. It wasn't his trusty gut feeling; it was different, yet it indicated that something was...wrong. He couldn't figure it out, and it kept on gnawing away at him. Reaching the closed door that led to the rooftop, Gibbs found himself momentarily hesitating, wondering if he should step through. This by itself felt somehow familiar, as if he had experienced it before, and he didn't know why.

Taking a deep breath, he twisted the doorknob and pulled the door open. Instantly, a bright light engulfed his vision and his surrounding, its sheer intensity all but overwhelming him. He instinctively squinted against the glare, and after what seemed like an eternity, the surrounding light began to fade away.

Heart-shaped face. Hazel eyes. Brunette hair. Vanilla and strawberry scent.

He found himself standing in front of Kate Todd on the rooftop, and he could see DiNozzo standing behind her. It was a bright, beautiful day, with the radiant sun high up in the intensely blue sky. Inexplicably, the strange sensation in his gut began intensifying, sending waves of dread coursing through his heart. Something clicked in his mind, and Gibbs' eyes widened as he knew, just _knew_, what would happen to the beautiful agent standing in front of him.

"Wow," Kate sounded incredulously amused, and Gibbs' dread intensified further. These words began a literal countdown to the violent end of Kate's life.

'Get down, Kate!' was what he wanted to say, and his brain screamed for him to reach out and push her down to the concrete floor, to get her out of the cross-hairs of the sniper rifle that Ari Haswari was aiming at her head at this very moment.

"I thought I'd die..."

Yet, his body remained immovable, for once refusing to heed the brain's frantic commands. Panic now flowed through him, intermingling with dread as he tried to move his damn body forward, to no avail. He tried to scream out her name, to yell for her to get down. Yet, his lips stubbornly remained closed in a slightly-amused lopsided smirk that he knew was lacing his face right now.

"...before I ever..."

"Kate! Get down now!" Gibbs silently screamed through his closed lips, his dread and panic skyrocketing to new levels. He couldn't lose his Katie again! He just couldn't!

"...heard a compl—"

A deafening shot pierced the silent Norfolk air, shattering it with a finality that lasted for eternity. Gibbs felt his heart stop right there and then. His frozen eyes watched in silent horror as Kate's head was violently thrown back, blood gushing out of the bullet hole that had abruptly erupted on the center of her forehead, her body slowly falling back to the floor.

At this very instant, his mind and body decided to release him from the dissociative prison that he had been trapped in. "_KATE!_" he screamed out, his voice thick with anguish, grief, and pain as he reached over to her, dropping to his knees as he gazed at her now-lifeless eyes. Blood began pooling on the floor around the back of her head.

"You failed, Gibbs," a voice that sounded disturbingly like Ari echoed out of the bullet hole on Kate's forehead. "How will you live with yourself, knowing that you failed to save Caitlin?"

Gibbs felt pure, unadulterated hatred seep into the gaping wound in his heart that had been violently tore apart once again, as a certain, smug, smirking face materialized in his mind. "Ari..." he growled, his voice the embodiment of rage.

"You called for me, Gibbs?"

Instinctively, Gibbs jerked his head to the right, only to stare down the barrel of a sniper rifle that Ari Haswari was aiming at him a short distance away. With a start, he realized it was his own Marine Corps M40A1 sniper rifle. Ari's eyes were pure black with malice, a cruel smirk crossing his face, as he aimed the rifle right at Gibbs.

"Sorry to shoot your precious Caitlin," Ari said tauntingly. "But it had to be done, for you deserve to suffer before you die, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Give Caitlin, Shannon, and Kelly my condolences."

Excruciating pain instantly shot through Gibbs' head, the agonizing sensation feeling like his brain was literally torn apart, and eternal darkness consumed his vision.

Gibbs shot up in his chair, his chest heaving.

"Gibbs! Are you okay?"

Blinking rapidly, Gibbs' vision began to adjust to the dim lighting. He was at his desk in the bullpen, and he saw the bleary-eyed, yet concerned, faces of Kate and DiNozzo next to him. Apparently, Kate had been the one who had been shaking him and calling out his name.

He glanced at one of his computer monitors. It was 2:30 in the morning.

Rubbing his eyes, he looked at Kate. He was suddenly overcome with an urge to wrap his arms around her waist and never let go. Out of sheer miracle, however, he managed to muster enough strength to push the urges away, taking several calming breaths.

"You were screaming in your sleep," Kate replied to his silent question as she subconsciously rubbed his back comfortingly. DiNozzo nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, we wanted to make sure you're okay."

Shaking his head to try to clear the aftereffects of the nightmare, Gibbs heaved out a tired sigh. "Sorry about that..." he muttered, not seeing Kate and DiNozzo exchange bewildered glances.

"Boss, remember Rule 6—" DiNozzo began.

"—Never apologize. It's a sign of weakness," Kate interjected, ignoring DiNozzo's annoyed glare.

Despite himself, Gibbs let out a chuckle, feeling some of his disquieting feelings and exhaustion began to fade away a bit.

"Yeah..." he nodded his head slowly, glancing at Kate and DiNozzo, the latter whose eyes were slightly narrowed as if in thought. He raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

DiNozzo blinked out of his thoughts, and began shaking his head. "Oh! It's nothing, um, not that you'd—uh, yeah, it's probably nothing."

"Is it?" Gibbs' patented Glare was now in full effect, and DiNozzo all but quailed at its sheer intensity.

"Um, it's just that..." he stammered, pulling at his collar, looking as if he was debating with himself whether to say what was on his mind. "Um, you yelled out Kate's name, boss," he admitted.

Gibbs blinked in surprise, and glanced at Kate for confirmation. She gave it with a nod. He wasn't sure if it was the dim light or not, but Kate's face looked slightly darker.

"It was a bad dream," Gibbs said simply, hoping it was enough of an explanation. He didn't really want to describe it in full detail. Kate gazed at him thoughtfully, looking like she wanted to inquire more about the dream that apparently involved her, but she nodded in understanding. "Okay."

Gibbs gave her a small lopsided grin and nodded gratefully.

"You know, Boss, you're not the only one," DiNozzo mused. "Kate had a dream about you the other day."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows, his curiosity piqued. He didn't see Kate's eyes widen and her lips open, a mortified expression overtaking her face.

DiNozzo nodded, a wide grin on his face, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Yeah, she screamed out your name. Must've been a good dream, because it woke all of us up—"

_Whap!_

"Ow! What the hell? You _don't_ get to hit me like that!" DiNozzo rubbed the back of his stinging head, his eyes wide with anger as he glared at Kate.

Kate's eyes blazed with fury, her cheeks flushed, and her lips curled into a snarl. "Except I just did, DiBlabber, and I would be more than happy to do it again!" she growled, throwing up her hands. "You _don't_ get to blab all about stuff that doesn't concern you!" Gibbs couldn't help but smirk at Kate's play on DiNozzo's name.

"Boss, did you see that? She just—"

"DiNozzo," Gibbs cut him off, tilting his head toward DiNozzo's desk. "Go back to sleep. Now." His voice left no room for argument.

Still rubbing the back of his head, DiNozzo nodded reluctantly, shooting Kate another glare as he went back to his desk.

"Oh my God, sometimes he just doesn't know when to shut up," Kate huffed in frustration before blinking as if in realization of who she was speaking. "Um, sor—I mean, pardon me."

Gibbs swiveled toward her, his lips curled up into an amused smirk.

"DiNozzo's being DiNozzo," he said with a slight shrug of the shoulder. "Can't be helped, but he does his work well."

"That's right!" DiNozzo hastily put his head back into his crossed arms when Gibbs shot him the Glare.

"If by 'work', you mean sticking his nose where it doesn't belong, then yes, he does it well," Kate remarked, rolling her eyes. "A bit _too _well, if you ask me."

"Like you do well dreaming of me?" Gibbs grinned as Kate blushed.

"As well as _you_ do dreaming of _me_," she retorted, glaring.

"Fair enough," he chuckled.

His bladder began to coil, reminding himself that he'd drank too much coffee last night. Standing up, Gibbs stretched, letting out a relieved sigh as some of his bones in his back 'popped'. As he gazed at his agent, a rogue thought crept in his mind, imploring him to ask her for a back message. He smothered it. "Katie, it's still dark. Get some shut-eye." Kate nodded reluctantly before she returned to her desk.

Walking past DiNozzo's desk, he whapped the back of DiNozzo's head. "Sleep, DiNozzo. That's an order," he barked, barely hearing DiNozzo's mumbled "Will do, Boss."

As he made his way toward the restroom, Gibbs' thoughts took him to the night before.

* * *

><p><em>Flashback:<em>

Gibbs narrowed his eyes, a strange sensation stirring in his gut, as Ziva reached into her bag and pulled out what looked like a satellite phone. She glanced at it and said something to Jenny, who nodded. As the two women exchanged traditional cheek kisses, he felt like he was forgetting something, something that he should have known already. He furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to shift through the millions of thoughts that were flittering around in his mind. As she began to walk toward the elevators, he began to concentrate harder.

Something clicked. His eyes widened.

Ziva had been secretly communicating with Ari the whole time, without notifying NCIS or the other agencies. It was so blatantly obvious that he wanted to face-palm and head-slap himself at the same time. How had it slipped his mind until now? He had the knowledge of the future, for Pete's sake!

She was the key to capturing and killing Ari – and she was getting away!

As the elevator doors opened and Ziva stepped through it, Gibbs leapt from his desk and briskly strode toward the elevator, ignoring Kate, Jenny, Abby, and DiNozzo's confused looks. "Jethro, what are you doing?" Jenny called after him. He ignored her.

He effortlessly slipped into the elevator right before the doors closed. He had to contain his bemused grin as Ziva stared at him in surprise, her satellite phone pressed against her ear. It was probably a good thing that he had learned a bit about Hebrew in the future, because his highly-sensitive ears were able to pick up some of her words. She had mentioned something about him having blood in his eyes.

Gibbs had to smirk at that one.

"Something has come up. I will talk to you later. Shalom." Ziva said hastily before hanging up and putting it into her bag. Gibbs surmised that it was Ari on the other end.

"Agent Gibbs," she nodded at him, her eyes radiating with curiosity and confusion. "How may I help you?"

He shook his head. "Have somewhere to go." He pressed the button right below the already-lit one. The elevator whirred as it began descending.

Ziva squinted slightly, adjusting her bag straps as she glanced away. "I see."

A moment passed in silence, the awkwardness palpable in the confined elevator.

"So I have blood in my eyes, huh?"

Ziva jerked her face up at him, her eyes widening in surprise. He merely smiled at her.

Her lips opened and closed wordlessly. "How did—" she managed to get out before Gibbs reached out and flipped the emergency stop switch. Instantly, the brightly-lit elevator was shrouded in darkness before the emergency lights went on, bathing the car in a dim blue light. The elevator car bounced to a stop.

Gibbs turned to her, his eyes now hard as granite.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Ziva's eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, but thanks to his sharp eyes, he could see something in her eyes and an imperceptible waver in her voice.

Gibbs wordlessly took a step toward her, and she instinctively took a step back.

"Who were you talking to, Officer David?" His voice was eerily calm.

Ziva blinked before her eyes hardened. "It's none of your business," she said tersely, meeting his gaze heads-on.

Gibbs' jaw clenched. "When it involves me, it's my _damn_ business!" He took another step; she took another step back.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, her jaw set. Any lesser man would have been disintegrated right on the spot, and for some reason, Gibbs felt something stir inside him. "With all due respect, Agent Gibbs, you have no—"

"But I do, Officer David," Gibbs cut her off as he took another step. Ziva's back hit the elevator wall. Their faces were inches apart. "When it involves me and NCIS. You know that."

"Just because I happened to mention you does not mean—"

"Reasonable suspicion." He held back a smirk at her baffled face. He leaned closer to her face, and he found it interesting that she didn't turn her face away.

"Tell me, Ziva David," he whispered by her ear. She gave an imperceptible shudder. "What else do you tell your half-brother Ari?"

Ziva was now staring at him with wide eyes, completely dumbfounded. Gibbs smirked inwardly. He had her right where he wanted her.

"How do you know that?!" she all but yelled. "Have you been sniping on me?"

This time, Gibbs did smirk at this quirk that he had come to adore in Ziva.

"Snooping or spying, either is fine," he took a step back. "And it's not like you haven't been profiling me either. Question still stands, though: what else have you been telling Ari about?"

"Like I said, it is none of your business." Ziva's eyes were defiant, her jaw set, her shoulders tensed, her fists clenched.

"You ever tell him about my family?" Gibbs pressed on, and the hardness in Ziva's eyes began to recede away, although she continued to glare at him. "Given what had happened to them...I wouldn't be surprised that he's doing what he've been doing so far."

"Agent Gibbs, I have said this before, and I will repeat it: Ari Haswari did not do what you accuse him of. You have no evidence, and all you have is your supposed 'gut feeling'!" She raised both her hands and flexed her index and middle fingers as if to punctuate the point.

"Then you tell me why one of my agents is nursing a gaping bullet wound in the shoulder!" Gibbs snapped. "Shot in my forensics scientist's Lab, just because he _happened_ to be in the way of the sniper rifle bullet that was _meant_ for Abby!"

"Did you see him?" she challenged, but then relented at his darkening glare. "I mean, I am sorry for what happened to your agent, but did you specifically see him fire that rifle?"

Gibbs gritted his teeth as he continued to glare at Ziva. As much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't answer the question because he didn't see Ari fire the rifle, and he couldn't exactly tell her that he had shot Kate Todd the first time around.

"What do you think a sniper rifle is for, Ziva?" Gibbs retorted challengingly. Ziva smirked.

"That means you did not see him, and thus you have nothing to prove Ari was the culprit," Ziva crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. It rankled Gibbs for some reason and he stepped away and turned around, taking a deep, calming breath.

"Ziva," his voice was strained. "How do you know that Ari Haswari hasn't changed?"

"Because I am his control officer—"

Gibbs whirled around, stepping close to her once again. "How _exactly_ do you know he hasn't changed? When was the last time you saw him?"

He nearly missed it, but he saw a flicker of uncertainty in her dark eyes.

"Why do you think he _specifically_ asked you to investigate my family?" he continued, his voice softening. Although Ziva had admitted the first time around that she had profiled him and found out about his first wife and daughter, it wasn't too difficult to figure that Ari had probably requested her to do so. Still, it couldn't hurt too much to take a stab, wouldn't it?

The uncertainty in Ziva's eyes grew a little, confirming Gibbs' little 'theory', and she opened and closed her lips several times, but no word came out. As much as Gibbs wanted to continue to persuade Ziva of Ari's duplicity, he had planted the seeds of doubt in her mind and that was enough, for now.

"Think about it, Ziva." Gibbs stepped back from her and flipped the emergency stop switch. The elevator's light went back on, and the car jumped to life as it continued its descent once more.

"Sometimes, some people aren't what you think they are," Gibbs said as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened to a large atrium on the first floor. "Your stop."

Ziva continued to stare at him for a moment before she nodded and stepped off. She turned around and gazed at him pensively.

Gibbs gave a curt nod as the doors closed in front of his face.

* * *

><p><em>The Present:<em>

As he washed his hands after relieving himself in the restroom, Gibbs thought back to the 'conversation' with Ziva in the elevator. While he had not disclosed to her of what he knew in the near-future, he hoped that he had gotten through to her. Otherwise, he would have to send DiNozzo to shadow her as the last time around, and he didn't want to put him in danger if he could help it.

After drying his hands, Gibbs put his hands on the counter as he peered at his reflection in the mirror. He thought about a couple of changes that did not take place the first time around: for some strange reason, Ducky's medical assistant, Gerald Jackson, wasn't taken hostage by Ari and Ducky wasn't forced to rendezvous with him on a rainy street.

He remembered feeling a sense of dread coil in his gut as he stepped out of the elevator toward Autopsy, expecting either the sight of an angry Ducky yelling into his cell phone or McGee telling him that Ducky had left the building. To his utmost relief, Ducky and McGee were both there.

"Are you okay, Jethro? You look like you have seen a ghost," a concerned Ducky had asked, and Gibbs had chuckled, reassuring that he has had "better days." Ducky had sympathized with that, remarking that "some days are invariably better than others, and that people handle them the best way as they see fit."

Gibbs remembered feeling guilt return with a vengeance upon seeing McGee with a large thick bandage wrapped around his shoulder, and had asked the probationary agent if he was "feeling all right". After McGee nodded, Gibbs had smirked and told him to take it easy. "After all, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger," he had said.

In the end, Gibbs reminded them in no uncertain terms that they were _not_ to leave the building under _any_ circumstances, fixing a confused Ducky with the closest thing to the Glare that he could muster to get his point across. He also told the Medical Examiner to turn his cell off, just in case. "Distractions are the last thing we need at this moment," he'd explained.

The rest of that night had been uneventful – or at least, as uneventful as it could be under the circumstances.

Gibbs heaved out a tired sigh as he felt exhaustion drape over him like a wet overcoat. He gave his reflection one last look, and trudged out of the restroom.

Walking into the bullpen, he noticed Kate's desk was empty. Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion and concern, Gibbs wondered where she had gone.

To the restroom, probably. But then she would probably have told him that.

At that moment, however, the strange sensation from the dream began settling down in his gut, and Gibbs' confusion only grew as he walked over to his desk and sat down. For some reason, his body began tensing up, as if primed for action; he didn't know why.

From his vantage point, he could see DiNozzo's slumped form at his desk, which looked the same as when he'd left for the restroom, yet something felt..._off_. His mind, roused from its lethargy, began ruminating, and it did not particularly help that the strange sensation intensified a bit.

Several moments – which seemed far too long in Gibbs Time – passed, yet Kate did not return. Gibbs narrowed his eyes as he looked at DiNozzo, and thought of something.

"DiNozzo!" he barked.

DiNozzo did not stir. Gibbs' eyes narrowed further.

The Special Agent always responded to this sharp, ignore-at-your-own-peril command, _always_, and it rubbed Gibbs the wrong way when he did not do so. A tiny part of his mind suggested that DiNozzo was probably too exhausted at this time, but Gibbs doubted it very much.

After all, DiNozzo had been woken up when Gibbs had screamed Kate's name in his sleep not too long ago.

As he got up from the desk and was about to stride over to DiNozzo's desk, the _Taps_ ringtone blared from Gibbs' cell, and he reached into his pocket, took it out, and flipped it open. His eyebrows furrowed further at the unfamiliar number that was displayed on the screen. Despite his churning gut, he clicked the call button and put it to his ear.

"Yeah. Gibbs."

"Hello, Leroy." Gibbs' eyes widened as realization struck him like a particularly powerful bolt of lightning.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Dun dun DUNNN!


	7. Chasing the Past

**A/N:** Here's the update, hope you like. Thanks once again to those who reviewed!

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. I also don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Kill Ari Part Two" (3.02), even although most of them were modified for this story's purpose. Any resemblance to real dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven:<strong>  
>Chasing the Past<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>"Ari! Where is she?"<p>

Gibbs' initial panic and dread quickly turned to anger and hatred. He mentally head-slapped himself, cursing himself for his carelessness. Why couldn't he hold it in and stay near Kate for the rest of the night? Having his bladder explode would be _far _preferable to losing his Katie to Ari all over again!

True, he couldn't have known that Ari would do what he did, but _still_. He should have known that Ari was a slippery bastard who was willing to go to any lengths to torment him.

The chuckle that emanated from the cell nearly caused Gibbs to crush his cell phone. "_Oh, Leroy. I wanted to have a pleasant chat with you. Is that a crime?_"

"When you kidnap my Katie, yeah!" Gibbs realized too late what he had said, and he closed his eyes, knowing well that Ari would definitely use it against him.

"_So she's your Katie. How…interesting._" Gibbs could practically hear Ari's smirk. "_You were always possessive of those you cared about. It's so sweet, it's pathetic._"

"Ya wanna talk pathetic? Let Kate go and get your ass over here, and we'll have a pleasant chat about it!" Gibbs all but slammed the power button on his computer, nearly knocking it off the desk. As he impatiently waited for the damn computer to boot up, realization struck him: he knew jack squat about computers, much less tracing Ari's call. That was McGee's forte—

Gibbs' eyes widened and he leapt from his desk, practically sprinting toward the elevator on the other side of the squad room. Changing his mind at the very last minute, he turned to a stairway nearby, nearly knocking the door off the hinges with his right shoulder. Ari's chuckle made him speed up, his footsteps echoing throughout the narrow stairwell as they pounded down the stairs.

"_Tempting, Leroy, but that would ruin the fun and, and to be frank, that's no fun_," Ari quipped. "_Speaking of which, let's play a game_."

"The one where I kill you in the most slow and painful way possible?" Gibbs burst through the door into the hallway, sprinting toward the door that led to the Autopsy room, frantically hoping that Ducky, Abby, and McGee were all right.

"_Why should you get to have all of the fun, Leroy?_" Ari laughed. "_No, let's play one of my favorite games. You may know it as 'Where's Waldo?', only I like to call it...'Where's Caitlin?' Not as catchy, I admit, but it sounds fun, don't you think?_"

"Gonna be fun catching you, that's for sure." Gibbs ran into the Autopsy room and flipped the nearby switch. He all but exhaled in sheer relief when the flooding lights revealed the slumbering forms of Abby, Ducky, and McGee lying on the metal tables. They began stirring, raising their heads and blinking their bleary eyes to look at him.

"_That's the point of the game. You find Caitlin, you find me. Simple as that. You think you're up to it?_"

"If you harm even a _single_ hair on Kate's head, Ari," Gibbs growled. "I _will_ find you and I _will_ kill you!"

"_You're a broken record, Leroy. You should loosen up a bit, it's a game after all._" Ari's tsk-tsking tone caused Gibbs' blood to boil. "_But you can rest assured that Caitlin here is safe and sound with me, as with the last time._"

"This'll be the last time, I guarantee it!"

"_Have a little faith in me. You should already know that I take good care of my girl_." Gibbs gnashed his teeth. "_Well, as pleasant as this chat has been, I must be going. I wish you the best of luck. Toodles!_"

The phone clicked, and Gibbs was seeing red as he quavered in silent rage, wanting so badly to throw the cell at the nearby wall with all his might.

"Gibbs? What's going on?" Abby's worried tone caused some of Gibbs' rage to diminish, and he turned to her. As he looked into her light green eyes, he debated with himself whether to tell her or not. He came to a decision: taking a deep breath, he opened his lips.

"Ari got Kate."

Abby's eyes widened, the concern replaced by panic. "No!" Ducky and McGee looked shocked.

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah. Snatched her up while I was in the restroom." He resisted an particularly overwhelming urge to himself the mother of all head-slaps.

"It can't be! Not _again_!" Abby began pacing around, wringing her hands. Gibbs began to reach out toward her, only for her to whirl on him. "How was this possible?"

Gibbs wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a comforting hug, rubbing small circles on her back.

"It's gonna be all right, Abs," he said softly, barely managing to keep his festering anger out of his voice.

"But it's not, Gibbs!" Abby pulled away slightly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Ari's been targeting us ever since forever! He held Ducky, Gerald, and Kate hostage, shot you and Gerald in the shoulder, kidnapped Kate, tried to kill me, hurt Tim over here, and now he has Kate once again! Who knows what else he might do to her this time? To the rest of us?"

"He won't get away with it," Gibbs said. "I promise."

"You say that, but it won't change the fact that Ari has our Kate in his evil clutches, and that he's probably doing—"

"Abby." Gibbs' tone was resolute. "He will _not_ get away with it. We _will_ find him and we _will _make him pay for his crimes. _I promise_."

Abby's eyes searched his for a long moment before she swallowed and nodded. "Okay."

"How did he get her, Jethro?" Ducky spoke up, walking over to Gibbs. "And where is Anthony? Is he all right?"

"DiNozzo got knocked out, apparently," he gave a shrug of the shoulder, belatedly realizing why the Special Agent had not responded to him. "And Hell if I know how she got taken. I was in the restroom."

Ducky nodded thoughtfully as he turned toward McGee. "It may be possible..." he squinted his eyes slightly, "...that he may have used a tranquilizer gun to render Anthony and Caitlin unconscious, making Caitlin an easy target," Ducky concluded, turning to Gibbs.

Gibbs had to conclude that it was possible, even although he hated that it had happened and that Ari had succeeded.

"Why didn't he use that on the rest of us?" McGee spoke up, only to squirm slightly at the pointed looks the others were giving him. "Not that he should've done it, but...still, why didn't he?"

"Wasn't interested in the rest of us, only Kate," Gibbs said. "He has a fixation on her."

"Well, like I said last night, he is torturing you, Jethro," Ducky spoke up. "What better way to do that than snatching Caitlin from right under your nose?"

"Oh, I'd like to snatch his life from right under his nose," Gibbs growled. Ducky chuckled.

"We all do," the medical examiner remarked. "Well, I admit that these are not the thoughts that one should have, but it is understandable given the circumstances that he has put us through over the past year."

"Is there anything we can do to help get Kate back?" Abby inquired pleadingly. Gibbs swallowed, confronted with a dilemma. He didn't want to leave them alone in the building out of fear that Ari or his men could go after them in his absence, but he didn't want to leave Kate in Ari's clutches for any longer if he could help it. He reached a decision.

"You got your gun with you?" Gibbs turned to McGee.

McGee blinked at the question. "Um, yeah. Why?"

Gibbs wordlessly pulled out his own Sig Sauer, turning to Abby. "You know how to use a firearm, Abs?"

Abby blinked as she looked between him and the pistol. "Well, um, not as proficient as with forensics science and computers, but I suppose I could use one—"

"Good." he pressed the Sig Sauer into her hand. "Anyone who's not NCIS shows up, pump them full of lead. No questions asked. That goes for you, McGee." With that, he turned toward the door.

"Gibbs, where are you—" Abby called out.

"Killing Ari," Gibbs growled as he left.

* * *

><p>As he entered the squad room, Gibbs paused to gaze at the Wanted Wall for a moment. Anger and hatred seeped into his heart and gut once again as the photograph of Ari Haswari sneered at him.<p>

"I have your Katie," it taunted. "She's mine, now and ever."

Gritting his teeth, Gibbs tore his eyes away from the photo and was about to go over to his desk in the bullpen when he noticed the unconscious DiNozzo still sprawled over his desk. He silently vowed vengeance – as if he hadn't done so already – as he placed a hand on DiNozzo's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

He went over to his desk, yanked the bottom drawer of the cabinet he'd kept adjacent to his desk, and grabbed one of the spare Sig Sauers. After checking to make sure it was loaded and the safety switch in position, Gibbs grabbed his overcoat and began putting it on as he strode over to the elevator.

A short elevator ride later, he walked across the atrium when he saw the sleeping guards at the front security checkpoints. He didn't know if they were sleeping because of the late hour or because they were knocked out by Ari. He then wondered whether Ari had crept through this atrium, and whether he had departed this way, with Kate over his shoulder—

He mentally shook the thought out of his mind, his strides becoming determined gaits as he passed through the glass double doors. The pouring rain that immediately pelted him brought back a sense of déjà vu, and Gibbs couldn't help but think about how it had rained that morning in 2015, and at the beginning of the nightmare.

Was this a sign or coincidence?

As he walked toward his car, which incidentally was the very same gray Ford F-250 truck that he would still be driving a decade later, a thought hit him. What if Ari had done something to his truck? Knowing Ari, he would be more likely to make things difficult for Gibbs, and tampering with his car – which was alone on the deserted parking lot – would be a surefire way to send Gibbs' already-high blood pressure skyrocketing through the stratosphere.

He clenched his jaw as he carefully approached the truck, and ignoring the rainwater that was seeping through his clothes, crouched to take a closer look at his tires. They didn't seem to be slashed or otherwise punctured. But with Ari, one could never be too careful.

After double-checking, and even triple-checking, to ensure his tires were in one place, Gibbs cautiously opened his driver's door and peered into it, squinting his eyes slightly. After a moment or two, he got into the car and put his keys into the ignition, hesitating once again. Would Ari rig the car to explode when the key was turned in the same way Harper Dearing had disposed one of his men in the future?

Taking a breath to try to dispel the hesitation away, Gibbs steeled himself and turned the key.

The car vibrated to life, and Gibbs felt relief flood into him. Seems Ari did want to play the 'cat-and-mouse' game with him, after all... His eyes hardened in determination, and a few seconds later, the car was speeding out of the compound, puddles of waters erupting in splashes caused by his tires. As he sped through Parsons Ave toward M Street, going twenty or thirty over the legal limit, Gibbs was overcome with déjà vu once again.

Around twenty-four hours earlier, in 2015, he had been driving this very car through the pouring rain, heading to Norfolk to pay respects to his Katie. Now, he was driving through the pouring rain, heading toward an unknown destination to rescue his Katie from Ari. Who'd have thunk it?

His mind then turned to possible places that Ari could've taken Kate to. There were several, but one stood out in his mind: his house. It was where the final confrontation with Ari had taken place the last time around, and Gibbs hoped that Ari would head there. He disregarded the part of his mind that suggested that it would be too obvious a move on Ari's part.

Approximately ten minutes later, he careened his car to a stop near his house on N. Naylor Street, and got out of the car, his pistol at the ready. As he crept across the street and past several darkened houses, he couldn't help but look around several times, as if expecting Jonas Cobb to leap out of the darkness with his knife at the ready. As he glanced at the street, he stopped in his tracks as memories of himself holding the dying Mike Franks right on the middle of that very street, in the pouring rain, flashed in his mind.

He shook them away, vowing that Cobb would not get the best of Franks – and anyone, for that matter – this time around. As far as he was concerned, Franks would live past May 10th, 2011, and he would personally make sure of that.

Finally, he could see his house in the distance, and noticed the driveway was empty. Guessing that Ari would park his vehicle somewhere, Gibbs crept toward the house, his heart beating faster and harder with every step. He carefully grasped the doorknob and twisted it, gently opening the front door while aiming his pistol in front of him.

As with the NCIS Headquarters, it felt the same yet very different to enter his own house, but Gibbs didn't think too much on that as he squinted his eyes through the darkness. He didn't want to flip any lights on, as to avoid alerting potential adversaries that might be hiding in the house.

Advancing deeper into the house, Gibbs moved into the living room. Everything there was pretty much the same as it had been: a plaid couch, a light green armchair, a wooden nightstand, a small table, and a lamp, along with a 1985 Magnavox tube TV and bookshelf next to the fireplace. The walls were free of the bullet holes that had been sustained during Mishnev's raid on the house. He went past the rickety dining table into his cramped kitchen.

Nothing.

Gibbs strained his ears for anything out of the ordinary. Still nothing, save for the heavy pit-pattering of the rain on the roof. He proceeded to go upstairs, taking care not to make the stairs creak, and checked his bedroom and other spare rooms.

Nothing. This left only one place.

He made his way downstairs once again, passed through the kitchen, and entered the darkened laundry room that led to the basement, noting with raised eyebrows that the lights should've been on. Guess not, given Ari's unpredictable nature. He took great pains to tread the steps lightly, and entered the basement, reaching for the light switch, his fingers at the ready...

The light flooded the room.

It was empty.

Disappointment pooled in Gibbs' gut as he looked around at his basement, which looked pretty much the same as it had been, sans the nearly-completed hull of a wooden ship he had been intending to name after Kate in her honor. Assortments of hand tools and wood pieces cluttered the large wooden table in the middle of the room.

The _Taps_ ringtone began blaring from his cell, and Gibbs felt apprehensive as he took the call.

"_Welcome home, Leroy._" Realization hit him like a jolt that Ari was somewhere in the vicinity.

"Tell me where you are!" Gibbs ran back up the stairs, passed through the laundry room, kitchen, and living room, and burst through the ajar front door, looking around wildly to try to locate Ari's car.

"_Let's not get too ahead of ourselves. We're playing a game, after all – or did you forget that already_?" Ari chuckled.

"As if I'd forget," Gibbs growled, tightening his grip on his Sig Sauer.

"_I see a certain ex-Marine standing out in front of his house, getting drenched by the second, as if he hasn't already_," Ari narrated, and Gibbs' gut constricted. "_He has a gun – a P220 Sig Sauer pistol, it seems – and is frantically looking around for something he lost, or is it someone? A certain Katie, perhaps?_"

Gibbs could barely hold back his snarl as he walked toward the street, ignoring the heavy raindrops pelting his face and body.

"_It would be so easy. All I have to do is pull the trigger—_" Gibbs' eyes widened slightly. "_—and it would be all over. Simple as that. Too bad, it would be a very hollow victory, like ending a game before it's begun. Such a pity, though. It was too good an opportunity to pass up_."

"Pulling the trigger right between your eyes would be too good an opportunity for me to pass up!" Gibbs yelled.

"_I look forward to that, Leroy_." With that, the cell went dead once again.

His heart pounding, Gibbs ran down the street, peering into every car he came across. Nothing so far. He stood on the sidewalk, waiting to see if any vehicle would drive off. Nothing moved, except for the trees and foliage that swayed slightly in the rain.

He had been so close, so _damn_ close.

Gibbs struggled to control his roiling emotions as he stepped into his car and pulled the door closed with such a force that it rocked the car. He waited several more moments; no car moved from the street. Either Ari had somehow left or was really good at hiding in plain sight. He couldn't exactly search each and every car parked on the street and driveways, though; time was of the essence, and he didn't have it in great abundance.

As he started the ignition, Gibbs tried to think of where to go next.

A thought hit him. His car sped through the street.

* * *

><p>As he parked his car onto a Georgetown street across from the large, nineteenth-century red-brick townhouse building that Director Jenny Shepard resided in, Gibbs gazed at his cell, debating whether to risk waking her up. Before he knew it, he found himself dialing the familiar number as he got out of the car and walked toward the building.<p>

She responded on the second ring. "Shepard."

Despite himself, Gibbs' lips curled up at the Director's sleepy tone, relieved that she was safe in her bed. "I need a partner, ya up for it?"

There was silence for a moment.

"Jethro? It's 3:45 in the morning, what the hell are you doing up?" Gibbs chuckled at her irritated tone, feeling some of his residual anger and anxiety recede away.

"Couldn't sleep." It wasn't a lie, considering everything that had transpired so far.

"Ever when do you ever sleep?" Gibbs let out a laugh.

"Since I joined NCIS? Never."

"It's a wonder that you're even functioning at all."

"Sleep's overrated."

Jenny chuckled before her voice grew serious. "On a serious note, why are you calling me at this hour?"

"As I said, I need a partner."

"Why don't you call the others for backup? You have a whole team of agents, after all."

"There's a problem," Gibbs said, the light banter between them dissipating.

He could practically see Jenny furrow her eyebrows in confusion. "What problem?" Gibbs exhaled out a breath, squinting against the rain.

"Jen, Kate's been abducted by Ari."

"_What?_"

Gibbs nodded, despite the fact that Jenny couldn't see him. "Yeah, she was taken from right under my nose, and now Ari's playing games with me."

"What—how was this possible—Jethro, what the hell happened?"

"Tell ya what. Come out and I'll tell you all about it in the car."

"You're outside?" He saw the blinds of one of the higher windows part way, and a certain red-head peer out. He waved to her with the hand holding the cell.

"I'll get ready." The line clicked off. Gibbs pocketed the cell as he strode back to his car and got inside. Approximately fifteen minutes – which was fifteen minutes too long in Gibbs Time – passed before Jenny appeared at her front door. She was wearing a black double-breasted overcoat over dark trousers, and was carrying what appeared to be a vintage black umbrella.

"Now that I'm here, fill me in," Jenny said once she got in the car.

"Gladly." Gibbs ignored Jenny's unamused glare as he started the car and cruised into the street. He took a moment to carefully and thoughtfully plan out his eloquent words out and organize them in a way that he wouldn't incur Jenny's irk.

"We were sleeping, I had a...nightmare, Kate and DiNozzo woke me up, I went to the restroom. When I got back, Kate was missing, DiNozzo knocked out."

Jenny stared at him for a long moment. "You had a nightmare?"

Gibbs couldn't help but chuckle at Jenny's incredulous tone. "That hard to believe?"

"Given that you receive nightmares as often as you get sick, yes," she deadpanned. "But if what you're saying is true..."

"It is!" Gibbs tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he nearly ran through a red light.

"...then it's bad, really bad," Jenny peered out the windshield. "You sure it was Ari?"

"Who else would take Kate?" Gibbs turned to her with a disbelieving expression on his face.

"I don't know, a million others who have grudges against you?" Jenny snarked. "You do have a proclivity for creating enemies, Jethro."

"This particular one took Kate right from the NCIS building," Gibbs made a sharp turn, nearly colliding with a car which was about to make a turn at the red light. "And who else have been persistently tormenting my team over the past year?"

"Jethro, no matter what your gut is telling you, you aren't infallible. Ari isn't trying to kill you."

"The hell he isn't. That bastard has it in for me!"

Jenny sighed. "What about the others?" she asked, altering the subject.

"They're okay. I told Abby, Ducky, and McGee to stay where they are, and to defend themselves if needed be."

"I can't believe this," Jenny began chuckling and Gibbs gave her a raised eyebrow. "I've been Director for only a few hours, and already I'm back on the street."

"Well, what can I say? You were a great agent," Gibbs smirked. Jenny shook her head bemusedly.

"So you say."

"I mean it. Remember that stakeout in Marseilles? It was August, and we were stuck in that attic with no air, photographing everyone who boarded that Lebanese trawler. Then the heat got to us, and—"

"Shut up!" Jenny's cheeks were reddening. Gibbs laughed.

Before too long, the Ford turned into the parking lot in the front of a large, angular hotel building. Jenny's eyes widened in recognition and she sharply turned to Gibbs.

"What are we doing at the Embasero, Jethro?" she hissed.

"It looked nice, thought we'd visit there," Gibbs shrugged as he got out of the car. Jenny's eyes narrowed.

"Jethro, Ziva doesn't have anything to do with Ari, aside from being his control officer," she said, getting out of the car as well.

"Ziva's there?" Gibbs raised his eyebrows, pretending to be surprised. Jenny glared at him.

"Don't play dumb, Jethro," she snapped. "It doesn't fit you. And I meant what I said about Ziva."

Gibbs sighed, deciding to drop the act. "She could help us out." he gestured toward the building.

"If you think that she would actually help you apprehend Ari for something that he hasn't actually committed, you've got another thing coming. You heard her last night. She won't believe anything that you keep on accusing Ari of, and you haven't produced even a shred of evidence to back it up!"

"Oh? So McGee's wounding and now Kate's kidnapping weren't enough?" Gibbs challenged. "What more proof do you need? Kate's dead body?" His heart involuntarily constricted at that painful memory.

Jenny's jaw clenched as her glare intensified. "Your _so-called_ 'evidence' is circumstantial at best and speculative at worst. Even if Ari did commit them, we have nothing to stick him with if this goes to trial, and you know that!"

Gibbs threw his hands up. "Then perhaps you haven't received the memo on what occurred last year! Ari somehow got into Ducky's autopsy room, where he held Ducky, Gerald, and Kate hostage for several hours. He shot Gerald in the shoulder, and did the same to me!" he pointed to his left shoulder for emphasis.

Jenny's expression softened slightly. "Jethro—"

"And not to mention, he kidnapped Kate again a few months later, which you are well-aware of, and he's doing it right now. You connect the dots."

"I'm aware of all that, Jethro," Jenny walked around the car to stand in front of him. "Ari might have done all that in the past, and might be doing it right now, but it's still circumstantial. We need something that decisively ties Ari to his crimes, and which will prove his guilt beyond any doubt. I don't think bothering Ziva will help."

"What if she's helping him out despite the fact that she's his control officer—"

"She's doing her job," Jenny interrupted. "You'd do the same if the roles were reversed."

"That's not exactly what I meant—"

"I know. But that's speculation as well, which will not help your case."

Jenny placed a gentle hand on Gibbs' arm. "I'm sorry—"

"Rule 6," Gibbs automatically supplied, and Jenny shook her head, chuckling slightly.

"—but just because you keep on saying it over and over again doesn't mean it's true. The same goes for your gut. Sometimes you might be wrong."

Gibbs immediately thought back to the yet-to-be-created Rule 51: "Sometimes, you're wrong."

"I might make a rule out of that," he said half-jokingly, and Jenny smirked.

"You and your rules," she shook her head. "Now, can we leave Ziva alone for now?"

Gibbs gazed at the hotel, feeling like he wanted to get in there and convince Ziva to help them out, but he had to concede that the Director had a point. After what he'd done last night, approaching her once again would push her away.

"Yeah." Gibbs reluctantly got back in the car, Jenny doing the same.

Little did they know was that a pair of dark eyes was watching them.


	8. Home is Where the Past Is

**A/N:** Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Here's the eighth chapter to hold you over while you wait for the turkey, hope you enjoy. Thanks once again for the reviews, and to Jadeite333 for the suggestions of places that Ari might have taken Kate to. Much appreciated. :)

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. Any resemblance to real dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight:<strong>  
>Home is Where the Past Is<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>He stood at the corner of the hallway adjacent to the elevator, peering into the dimly-lit squad room. From his vantage point, he could see the bullpen where they worked. DiNozzo was bent over his desk, sleeping, and he knew Gibbs and Kate were doing the same. McGee and the others were nowhere to be seen, but he didn't care about them.<p>

As far as he was concerned, there was only one who truly held his attention. Grasping his weapon in his right hand, he was about to take a step forward—

"_KATE!_"

He jolted, nearly dropping his weapon as Gibbs' anguished voice echoed around the silent room. He could see Kate and DiNozzo rouse from their sleep and hurry over to Gibbs' side. He raised his eyebrows, his lips slowly curling up into a smirk, at the spectacle.

It gave him no small amount of pleasure to hear Gibbs yell like that, to hear the anguish in his voice. This was precisely what he wanted to hear, to hear Gibbs bewail the loss of those who he cared for in the end. He looked forward to seeing the pain, suffering, and anguish on Gibbs' face, right before he aimed the rifle to his head and pressed the trigger that would end the ex-Marine's life for once and for all.

It would be a particularly sweet victory he would cherish for the rest of his life.

As he watched Kate lean over Gibbs behind the divider, he thought about how beautiful she looked. He hadn't stopped thinking about her ever since he had first laid eyes on her last year, and not for the first time, it had surprised him about how much she aroused in him. He didn't know exactly what it was about her that so captivated him. Was it her hazel eyes that somehow caused a small flutter in his otherwise deadened heart? Was it her dark brown hair that begged him to weave his hands through? Was it her soft lips that practically _demanded_ to be dominated, _hard_? Was it her fiery, feisty personality that absolutely refused to take any of his crap?

He watched them patiently, smirking as Kate slapped DiNozzo on the back of his head. A moment later, DiNozzo walked back to his desk and put his head back into his arms, as if going back to sleep.

At last, Gibbs stood up from his desk and walked out of the bullpen, smacking DiNozzo on the back of the head as he did so. He smirked as the silver-haired Marine disappeared from sight. He silently crept into the squad room, heading toward the bullpen. He could now see the back of Kate's head as she sat at her desk.

_Sorry Caitlin_, he thought to himself as he aimed his tranquilizer pistol at the nape of Kate's neck and pressed the trigger. She jerked slightly, her hand reaching for her nape. The drug was fast-acting, however, and Kate crumpled onto her desk. As quick as a flash, he aimed at DiNozzo and fired before the agent could even raise his head.

Satisfaction washed over him as he strode into the bullpen and plucked the darts from them. Normally, he would leave his projectiles at the scene, as to leave his calling card, but he'd make an exception just this one time. All the better to leave Gibbs in the dark and to buy himself some time. Gibbs would surely figure it out, but by then, he would be long gone, and the game would begin in earnest.

As he stood over Kate's prone form, he couldn't resist putting his fingers through her hair. _So soft_, he thought as he gazed at her beautiful face. He gently pulled Kate upright and swirled her around to face him before hooking his arms under her armpits to pull her up to her feet. He leant over slightly so she was over his shoulders, wrapped his right arm around her thighs and grabbed her right wrist with his left hand, and stood up.

God, he couldn't get enough of her vanilla and strawberry scent. Yet another aspect of Kate that drew him to her.

With a final glance in the general direction that Gibbs had went, Ari Haswari smirked as he strode out of the squad room, Kate draped over his shoulders like an elusive prey that had been captured at last.

* * *

><p>"So, where are we going now?"<p>

Gibbs mentally checked over the list of possible locations that Ari might have taken Kate to.

So far, his house and the hotel were out, and next on the list were Kate, DiNozzo, McGee, Abby, and Ducky's places. He had this feeling that Ari wouldn't take the time and effort to go over to DiNozzo and McGee's apartments, and the same went for Ducky's house. Abby's place was a possibility, yet his gut told him otherwise.

This left one place.

"You'll see," he stamped on the accelerator, effectively turning the Ford into a lethal weapon that sped through the streets of DC.

After nearly running the red light three times, cutting off two cars without signaling, nearly rear-ending at least two cars, and almost running over three pedestrians, Gibbs pulled his car to a sharp stop outside their destination. Jenny looked slightly frazzled.

"To think I'd almost forgotten the way you drive," she mumbled as she got out of the car, eliciting a chuckle from Gibbs.

"You get used to it," he looked up at the seven-story apartment building that loomed over them.

"Not really."

As he and Jenny entered the building, passed through the front lobby, and climbed the stairs toward the second floor, Gibbs thought back to the last time he had visited there. It was the day before her funeral, and he had picked the lock before entering, only to be nearly overwhelmed by her scent that still lingered there. All her things were still there the way they had when she died, but the flat had never felt so empty before. It was the first time that he had openly wept since Shannon and Kelly's deaths.

"Where are we, exactly?" Gibbs swallowed a large lump in his throat as he turned to Jenny, who was peering at him inquisitively. He silently tilted his head before continuing on toward their destination. Jenny raised her eyebrows as she followed after him.

He carefully crept toward Kate's door. He tried the doorknob; it was locked. He could've kicked the door in, but he knew Kate would kill him if she found out (and she always did when it came to him, somehow), so he searched his overcoat and pants for a pair of his trusty lock pick set.

"Jethro, what are you doing?"

"Picking my way in," Gibbs inserted the pick and tension wrench into the lock and began moving them around, listening for the subtle click of the pins as they fell into position. After a moment, he turned the wrench, and there was a click as the lock was unlocked.

"I think I just learned how to pick the lock all over again just by watching you," Jenny commented. Gibbs gave her a lopsided smile.

"They all do," he pulled his Sig Sauer out; Jenny did the same. He twisted the knob, and carefully peered into the flat. The strawberry and vanilla scent assaulted his senses, and he involuntarily inhaled it. Gently pushing the door open as not to cause a creaking sound, Gibbs and Jenny crept further into the flat, their eyes adjusting to the darkness.

The living room, dining room, and kitchen were clear; the same went for the guest room.

Finally, there was Kate's bedroom, and Gibbs felt hope, fear, anticipation, and anger course through him as he gazed at the closed door. Taking a deep breath, Gibbs shared a glance with Jenny and nodded.

He pushed the door open and charged inside, his pistol out.

It was empty.

"Damn it!" he cursed as he looked at her well-made bed before checking the bathroom. Nothing there. Just where did Ari take her?

As if responding to his silent question, the cell rang. He was seriously reconsidering changing his ringtone when this was all dealt with.

"Where the _hell_ are you?" he yelled before the bastard could get a word in.

"_I'm disappointed, Leroy_," Ari tsk-tsked. "_I'd thought that with your legendary investigation skills and gut instinct, you would do well in this game. Guess I thought wrong_."

"Where is she?!"

"_Oh, wouldn't you like to know?_" Ari drawled. Gibbs gritted his teeth and Jenny looked on in curiosity and concern. "_Let me assuage your worries once again, she is safe and sound with me. You know that already._"

"You do know that I am gonna—"

"_—find me and kill me, I know_," Ari sounded bored. "_You are really starting to become predictable, and that's not a good thing._"

"The same could be said for you, Ari," Gibbs growled as he strode back to the living room, not seeing Jenny raise her eyebrows. "You probably have a sniper rifle trained on me right this moment." He walked toward the living room window and pulled back the curtains to peek outside. The rain seemed to be letting up a bit, and the dark sky was beginning to lighten.

Ari's laughter rang in his ears. "_As great as that would be, I don't. My rifle doesn't exactly have that ability to see through walls, unfortunately_."

"Tell me again, where is she?" He eyed the framed photograph of Kate with President George W. Bush on a nearby shelf.

"_Really, Leroy. We're going over this again?_" Ari let out a mockingly exasperated sigh, and Gibbs hissed through his gritted teeth.

"_I suppose I could tell you that she is with me at the moment, once again. But since that apparently wouldn't satisfy you, I suppose I should elaborate a bit._" Ari paused for dramatic effect, and Gibbs could literally feel his blood pressure rise by the second.

"_She's somewhere in the DC area_."

"That's _mightily_ helpful," Gibbs spat out as he tightened his grip on his pistol, desperately wishing he could aim it right at the dead center of Ari Haswari's forehead. Emphasis on 'dead'.

"_Glad I could be of help, Leroy_." Gibbs clenched his jaw as he disconnected the call, flipping the cell closed.

"Was that Ari?" Jenny gazed at him inquisitively. He turned to her, and after a moment, nodded curtly.

"Yeah. He's jerking us around, though." Gibbs took a look around the living room, taking in the surroundings. Kate's apartment was out, and Gibbs thought about other possible locations. Ari had mentioned that he was still in the DC area, so it had to be located there...but then Ari was as trustworthy as his ex-wives.

His mind continued to whirl in conjunction with the soft pit-patting of the rain outside. He knew Ari had been targeting women close to him out of a desire to cause him the same pain and loss as he had suffered after losing Shannon and Kelly. Ari's choice of targets weren't accidental or coincidental, and Gibbs supposed the same went for locations.

But if that was the case, then why didn't Ari go to the house, the apartment, or the hotel? It was possible Ari didn't want to be too predictable, and these locations would be fairly obvious, but still...where exactly had Ari gone to? As much as he hated it, he had to think like Ari Haswari. If he had a unconscious Kate at his side – he gritted his teeth at the thought – and wanted a certain bastard of an ex-Marine to suffer, where would he go?

Something clicked. His eyes widened slightly as realization hit him.

"I think I know where Ari is," he said over his shoulder, running out of the flat. Jenny blinked and furrowed her eyebrows as she followed him.

* * *

><p>"When are you going to tell me what's going on?"<p>

Gibbs glanced at Jenny, who was looking at him.

"Not enjoying the countryside?" he quipped as he returned his attention to the road in front of them. The Ford was currently cruising through a country road in the northern Virginia countryside, exceeding the speed limit as usual. The pounding rain had let up a little.

Jenny narrowed her eyes at his evasive reply. "Not when you wake me up in the early morning and drag me everywhere with you, and especially without telling me what's going on!"

He couldn't help but chuckle, feeling the heat of the Director's glare intensify.

"Ah...thought it'd be nice to be spontaneous for once, ya know?" Gibbs gave a shrug of the shoulder.

"You and spontaneity do not mix well, Leroy Jethro Gibbs," Jenny huffed, and Gibbs felt the corner of his lips twitch once again.

"Paris and Marseille might disagree with that," Gibbs had to grin at the blush that welled up Jenny's face.

"You're incorrigible, Jethro. You know that?"

"Yeah. Most of them call me a bastard, though." Gibbs remarked, causing Jenny to chuckle despite herself.

"That's very true." Silence descended in the car once again.

"So, care to fill me in? And don't make a joke about that!"

Gibbs let out a weary sigh as the playful banter between them faded away. That was how it always went on in the relationship between them.

"Ah, you already know that Ari abducted Kate," Gibbs glanced at Jenny, who nodded. "Well, he's leading us on a wild goose chase. He wasn't at my house and Kate's apartment, and you _didn't want_ to bother Ziva at the hotel." Jenny's eyes narrowed at Gibbs' pointed tone. "But I may have figured out where he went to." he made a sharp left turn at a stop sign.

"And where is that?"

Gibbs paused for a moment, debating whether to tell her about the safe house. He wasn't supposed to know about that at this time, given that he – or at least, his past self – hadn't known Ziva before last night. And she hadn't told him about the safe house until over a year after...it happened. How could he explain that to Jenny without disclosing the fact he was from the future?

Eh, she wouldn't believe anything he said, so there was no harm in trying. _Right?_

"Ziva tell ya anything about that safe house of hers?"

Jenny blinked a couple of times as she stared at him. "What safe house?" Gibbs inwardly smirked at the confusion in the Director's tone. As with the last time, Ziva hadn't been telling Jenny everything.

"Oh, you didn't know?" he said flippantly.

Jenny leaned closer to him. "Jethro..." she growled warningly.

"Ziva has a safe house in the countryside, one that she built for Ari. Did she not notify you about that?" Jenny looked surprised at this revelation. Her surprise was quickly replaced by suspicion.

"Assuming what you've said is true, how would you know that?"

Gibbs shrugged. "I have my ways," he replied mysteriously.

"Your 'ways' involve sprouting unsubstantiated accusations and relying on that gut of yours!"

"I have more than one way, y'know," Gibbs defended. One of which involved the future, he thought to himself. He didn't say it aloud, of course.

"That's funny, because I haven't seen them yet," Jenny retorted.

"All the more better," Gibbs smirked. Jenny looked like she realized something.

"Is that how you found out about that supposed safe house, interrogating her in that elevator?" she glared at him, and he almost shifted in his seat. He did interrogate her...just not about the safe house.

Gibbs pasted on a perplexed expression on his face, raising his eyebrows. "What makes you think I did that?"

"_Did_ you?" she shot back challengingly. "Given the way you hurried off into the elevator when she was leaving..." she closed her eyes. "Oh my God, how did I miss that? I should've known that you were up to something, Jethro!"

"Jen, I did not interrogate her in the elevator or anything," Gibbs fibbed. Jenny looked at him disbelievingly.

"You will forgive me if I do not believe you," Jenny said, crossing her arms.

"Just because you don't believe me doesn't make it any less true," Gibbs insisted as he made another turn into a stretch of road that led to the safe house. "Look, Jen, Ziva is Ari's control officer. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that she probably has a safe house around here."

"Which begs the question: how did you find out about that?" Jenny retorted. "You didn't even know Ziva until last night, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist that you may have questioned her in the elevator. And don't say anything about your 'trusty' gut. You may be Gibbs, but it doesn't work like that!"

"Well, we're here. Let's go." Gibbs neatly sidestepped the question as he pulled the car to a stop a short distance from their destination. It was a single-story white timber frame house surrounded by a picket fence. He got out of the car and readied his Sig Sauer, walking toward the house. Jenny got out of the car as well, looking more than a little miffed as she followed him.

As he gazed at the safe house, Gibbs' mind took him to the last time he had been there. Ziva had brought him there after she was framed for the murder of a Syrian colonel and two FBI agents in the summer of 2006. He had been retiring in Mexico at that time, and a teary Ziva had called him and practically begged him for help. Later on, the house had been blown up while they were inside it, and they narrowly escaped, albeit with some injuries. The real perpetrators, a former Mossad agent and an Iranian spy, had been uncovered, and the latter arrested.

He found it interesting, if not a little strange, to be thinking about the future in the past tense.

As he approached the house, the hair on the back of his neck began standing out, his gut constricting, as a certain sensation washed over him.

Gunfire rang out. "Take cover!" Gibbs yelled over his shoulder as he all but leapt behind a nearby tree. Jenny did the same, taking cover behind the Chevrolet Suburban that was parked on the driveway, and they waited for the gunfire to abate a bit before leaning out and returning fire.

Feeling adrenaline coursing through him, Gibbs ran from cover, scurrying toward a tree nearer the house. As he leaned against the tree and reloaded his Sig Sauer, he was overcome with a sense of déjà vu once again. Not too long ago, he had been walking across a silent and darkened warehouse, only to get embroiled into a gunfight – with a living Kate at his side.

When Jenny fired toward the house, Gibbs jumped out and ran toward the house, focusing all his fire toward one of the windows. The glass – or whatever part of the glass that wasn't damaged – shattered and he swore he could hear an anguished cry of pain from inside.

Finally, one of the gunmen burst through the front door, fire blazing. Unfazed by the incoming bullets, Gibbs aimed his pistol and returned fire; the gunman crumpled to the floor, blood starting to pool around his riddled body. He then heard someone cry out and a body hitting the floor from somewhere in the house. Apparently, another gunman was taken care of, Shepard-style.

Taking cover next to the open front door, Gibbs reloaded his pistol and looked over at Jenny, who had taken up position next to him. "You doing' ok?"

"Yeah." Jenny sounded slightly out of breath.

Gibbs nodded before steeling himself and charging through the front door. Almost immediately, a gunman leaned out of a nearby door and opened fire. Gibbs immediately slid into cover behind the couch and returned fire for a couple of moments before the gunman fell, the sounds of his body hitting the ground seemingly reverberating throughout the house. Still crouching, he scurried through the aforementioned door, which led into the kitchen.

The sole gunman who was using the dinner table as cover went down in a furious hail of lead, courtesy of Gibbs, and he found himself running through a short hallway adjacent to the kitchen. Reaching the first door he saw, Gibbs took a deep breath before kicking it right off its hinges. The gunman crouching behind the bed managed to put up resistance for a brief moment before he, like the rest of his associates, was violently blasted into an eternity that definitely did not have rivers of honey and seventy-two virgins.

When he was about to go back into the hallway, part of the door's casing was blown off, and Gibbs instinctively pulled his head, waiting for the gunfire to abate before—

A burst of gunfire sounded to his left, and he heard a body land on the floor with a sickening thud. He turned his head to see Jenny advancing toward, her pistol held out right in front of her. He gave her a small lopsided smile in gratitude before heading out into the hallway.

There was one last door at the end of the hallway, and Gibbs felt hope and apprehension well up inside him as he cautiously approached the closed door, stepping over the dead body on the way.

Taking up position next to the door, Gibbs exchanged looks with Jenny for a tense moment before swallowing and nodding. He then took a step back and kicked the door open, stepping into the room with his Sig Sauer held in front of him.

The room was empty.

Gibbs let out a string of curses as he turned around and stormed out of the room. As he strode through the hallway, his cell rang.

"_I must say, I am impressed, Leroy_," Ari remarked as soon as Gibbs clicked the accursed call button. "_I certainly did not expect you to find that safe house, and so soon._"

"I'm full of surprises," Gibbs growled as he passed through the front door, scanning the surroundings.

"_Such a pity. It was a nice, little safe haven that Mossad was kind enough to set up for me for my sojourn here._" Gibbs immediately knew Ari was lying.

"Yeah, very nice place here. Especially the welcoming committee."

"_You didn't have to greet them the way you did. They were merely doing their job._"

"So am I," Gibbs shot back, approaching his car.

"_Still, you didn't have to spoil their fun. It's all fun and games, after all._"

"Until someone gets killed," he growled as he got into the car, starting the ignition. Jenny got in as well.

"_That will not be me, fortunately._" Gibbs bristled at Ari's confident, self-assured tone.

"Oh, it will, Ari! I guarantee it," he said. "You started this game, I will end it."

"_I am afraid I would have to disagree with you on that._"

"What, you expect me to keep on playing this damn game of yours until you get your jollies? Is that it?"

"_No, Leroy, I expect you to die._"

"You and a million of other bastards who want me dead. And you thought I was getting predictable." Gibbs turned the car around, nearly hitting the picket fence that was on the other side, and began cruising through the country road. "Now, where is Kate?"

"_Oh yes, I was about to get back to you on that_," Ari said, and Gibbs tensed up. "_Caitlin here has woken up, and I must say, she is getting awfully feisty here_."

Gibbs gnarled his teeth. "You better not—"

"_I keep my words, Leroy. Have a little faith in me_," Ari admonished, and Gibbs was sure he was shaking his head. That bastard. "_I am a man of honor, after all._"

"Hell of a way of showing it."

Ari chuckled. "_Let me reassure you once again, she is right at home with me_."

"Define 'home'."

"_You know, there's an old saying. What was it?_" Ari sounded thoughtful. "_Oh yes. Home is where the heart is. Rather a fitting one, considering your situation, isn't it?_"

"Gonna be more fitting when I shoot you right through the heart!"

"_I guess you and Caitlin do have at least one thing in common_," Ari chortled. "_I have a piece of advice for you, though: follow your heart and you'll find her._" With that, the call disconnected.

"Did he say where Kate was?" Jenny inquired, concerned. Gibbs didn't reply as he focused on the road ahead, his mind contemplating over some of Ari's words like a malfunctioning recorder.

"_She is right at home with me._"

"_Home is where the heart is._"

"_Follow your heart and you'll find her._"

For some reason, Ari talked about home, and Gibbs couldn't fathom that. It seemed to be one of these things that Ari said to wind him up, yet something felt...different about it. His gut seemed to confirm that.

"_She is right at home with me._"

"_Home is where the heart is._"

"_Follow your heart and you'll find her._"

What was it about these words that caused him to feel the way he was feeling right now? Like there was something right on his mind, but he couldn't decipher it yet. Like Ari was trying to tell him something in these cryptic words.

"_She is right at home with me._"

"_Home is where—_"

Like a powerful lightning bolt, realization hit him at last. He stomped the accelerator as hard as he could, ignoring Jenny's yells as the Ford sped down the road.

* * *

><p>After abruptly pulling the car to a stop with enough force that would've sent an unbuckled person careening right through the windshield, Gibbs got out of the car, not even bothering to close the door as he hurried toward the house. He barely registered Jenny following after him.<p>

After double-checking to make sure the Sig Sauer was loaded, Gibbs slowed his steps as he neared the front door, which was slightly ajar. This sent off alarm bells in his mind, and with his heart beating faster and harder, he cautiously nudged the door further open, his pointer finger posited right on the trigger, ready to squeeze at an instant.

He couldn't see anything out of the ordinary in the house from where he was standing, so he took several cautious steps forward. As with the last time, he refrained from flipping the light switch as to avoid giving himself away. He moved into the foyer; nothing out of place.

_They were probably in the basement_, he thought to himself as he warily eyed the door to the laundry room that, in turn, led to the basement. He began moving toward them.

Suddenly, pain radiated from the side of his neck as something sharp struck him there.

Tranquilizer dart, he realized with sudden clarity as his vision began to blur and distort.

_Damn you, Ari_, his mind furiously railed as the Sig Sauer began to slip away from his slackening fingers, hitting the floor with a clang that seemingly echoed around the world. As his legs began to give way from under him, as he began falling toward the cold, hard floor, he cursed himself for his foolishness.

As his vision slowly faded to black, he cursed Ari Haswari with all his heart.


	9. Settling Past Scores

**A/N:** Well, here it is. The final confrontation with Ari is here at last. How will it end? Will anyone survive? Find out in this chapter!

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. I also don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Kill Ari Part Two" (3.02), even although some of them have been altered to fit this story. Any resemblance to real dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine:<strong>  
>Settling Past Scores<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>He didn't know where he was, or even what the hell all this was.<p>

He was standing in what appeared to be a void, where time and eternity seemingly disappeared in the pitch-black nothingness that completely surrounded him. He couldn't see anything but the blackness that consumed his vision; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't even see his own hands right in front of his face.

Clamping down on the confusion and panic that welled up inside him, Gibbs looked around, trying to get his bearings in the darkness. He took a tentative step forward, putting one foot after the other, his hands reaching out for anything to get a hold on. As he mentally counted the thudding of his shoes on the surface, he felt like a blind person deprived of any form of assistance whatsoever — and he hated that feeling.

At last, after what seemed like forever, a tiny ray of light began to flicker in the distance. Gibbs instinctively gravitated toward it, guided by his curiosity and intrigue.

With every step he took, the light steadily grew brighter, steadily banishing the surrounding darkness away. As he got closer, he squinted and put his arm in front of his eyes against the light that steadily grew brighter and brighter.

"Say bye to Daddy." A female voice echoed out of nowhere.

Gibbs furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. The voice sounded familiar for some reason, and he couldn't place a finger on it. Right in the center of the overwhelming ray of light, an image began to appear, slowly materializing into focus similar to an overlapping transition utilized in movies. At the same time, the surrounding light began to fade away, and his surroundings sharpened into focus.

His eyes widened in surprise as two pairs of eyes, one hazel and one gray, connected with his.

Kate Todd was standing in front of him, holding a young girl in her arms. The girl looked to be around five years of age, yet she was the splitting image of Kate, the only difference being her eye color, which he noticed was gray. The color of his eyes.

His daughter, he thought with a start as the girl wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, softly whispering "Bye Daddy" in a wistful tone. She even sounded like her mother.

"Bye bye," he found himself saying as his arms moved, on their own accord, around the girl's shoulders and gave her a loving squeeze, coupled with a tender kiss on the top of her head. It was a disconcerting feeling, to be there yet not be there at all, like an out-of-body experience, yet a warm sensation welled up inside his chest similar to the way he had felt when he had hugged Kelly years before. As he turned his head to look at Kate, Gibbs was surprised to see love and longing in her eyes, directed solely at him. It wasn't unlike the way Shannon used to look at him.

It caused his heart to flip-flop and his gut to constrict.

He felt himself wrap an arm around her shoulder. She wrapped one of her arms tightly around his waist and snuggled into his chest. Her strawberry and vanilla scent wafted around him, and he found himself inhaling it, savoring it. She raised her face to look at him.

"You will come back safe and sound, Jethro. You got that?" she said softly yet resolute. Gibbs' lips curled up into his trademark lopsided smile. It seems Kate had taken after him in some way.

"Got it, Katie," he heard himself say. Kate smiled as she leaned closer toward him. He found himself leaning toward her and capturing her lips in a sensual kiss that sent a tiny yet powerful jolt through him. Her lips were so soft and warm, he thought to himself as he enjoyed the kiss, and nearly let out a whimper as he reluctantly parted away from her.

"Take care, my girls," he was saying as he forced himself to slung his travel bag over his shoulder, step back, turn around, and walk across the tarmac of Joint Base Andrews toward a waiting C-130 Hercules that was to take him to Iran.

When he reached the aircraft, he found himself turning back to see his wife and daughter standing in the distance, waving. He felt his lips curl up in a full-fledged smile, feeling love, happiness, and contentment wash over him as he waved back.

At that moment, the warm afternoon sunlight began to grow brighter, slowly but steadily enveloping Kate and their daughter, and the base, in its ethereal rays. Gibbs squinted his eyes, turned his head away, and put his right hand up to shield his face, belatedly realizing that he was back in control of his body once more. As before, the light grew brighter by the second for what seemed like an eternity before it began slowly receding once again.

He blinked several times, seeing several bright spots behind his eyelids, as the light slowly retracted to a small dot of light that hovered somewhere in the distance. His vision began to sharpen, the dark, fuzzy shapes in front of him slowly materializing into focus. He could see the light pendant, the crafting table, a coiled garden hose, several thin wood boards, and a small stereo television set tucked away into a small hanging shelf affixed to the wall. The scent of sawdust began wafting under his nose, its familiarity jolting his mind.

He was in his basement, sitting on a chair near the foot of the stairs. But how did he get there?

His wondering question was immediately stilled when he saw a certain young woman sitting across from him, slightly to the left. His eyes widened, and his heart leapt into his throat, as Kate Todd stared back at him, gagged and bound to her chair. How the hell had he not noticed her at first?

As if on instinct, he began to get up – and found that he couldn't. Looking down, he noticed that his arms were tightly bound to the armrests by thick duct tape, the same going for his legs to the chair legs.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move his arms and legs. What was happening? How did he get in this position—

"Rise and shine, Leroy."

Gibbs jolted as his memories began rushing back to him. Speeding through the streets of DC. Careening his car right into the curb. Getting out and heading over to the house. Reloading his pistol. Cautiously moving into the house. Feeling something prick his neck. Darkness consuming him.

"Ari," Gibbs growled, feeling his gut coil tightly in anger and hatred as a smirking Ari Haswari, clad in a tight-fitting black long-sleeved shirt, black jeans, and shoes, stepped into his field of vision, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Now, now, there is no need to get mad. I thought you looked tired, so I decided to let you rest for a bit," Ari got his hand from behind his back, revealing a tranquilizer pistol. "Can't have you keeling over in sheer exhaustion during our game, can we?"

"How considerate of you, Ari," Gibbs spat out. Ari chuckled.

"Still grumpy, I see," he shook his head mockingly. "But look on the bright side, you won the game! You found us, and you're now reunited with your dear Katie. Isn't that great?" Ari made his way toward Kate, making Gibbs clench his fists.

If looks could kill, Ari would've been completely obliterated by the twin glares that Gibbs and Kate were giving him. He reached out to stroke Kate's face, and she immediately jerked her head away, eliciting a dark chuckle from the Mossad operative-turned-terrorist.

"Such a pity that your reward is death," Ari turned to Gibbs, not sounding apologetic at all.

"Hell of a reward."

"Come on, it is not necessarily a bad thing. You know what they say about death, that it is not the end, but the beginning. As much as we call the earth our home, it is not truly our home, for it is but a brief sojourn in our inexorable journey toward eternity. Given what you have been through all your life, death should be a welcome respite."

"The same could be said for you, Ari."

Ari chuckled. "Do not fret, though. You will not spend your final moments alone," he gestured at Kate, and then toward something to Gibbs' right. Looking over, Gibbs' eyes widened at the sight that greeted him. Jenny was sitting near the crafting table, duct tape covering her mouth and wrapped around her arms and legs. That wasn't the only shocking part, however.

Abby Sciuto was sitting next to Jenny, similarly gagged and tied up.

His mind was raging, shock and disbelief flowing through him as he stared at his forensic scientist, whose terrified green eyes stared back at him. How had Abby been captured? How the hell was this possible? Hadn't he given her his Sig for self-defense? What happened to Ducky and McGee? And DiNozzo, for that matter? His panic began to mount as unfathomable scenarios began running through his mind.

"Abigail here is very proficient in the delicate arts of forensics science," Ari spoke as he took several steps toward Abby.

"Not only can she pinpoint a suspect by cross-referencing a set of fingerprints accessed from other databases, but she is able to determine exactly the kind of rifle that someone has used, solely from a few empty casings left behind at the crime scene. I wouldn't be surprised if she knew the exact percentage of nickel and copper in the brass, who manufactured the ammo, and whether it was fired from a lever action, a bolt action, a semi-automatic, or an automatic rifle."

"In other words, what you have here is a very brilliant scientist, who will go very far in life," Ari walked behind Abby and put his hands on her shoulders, making her – and Gibbs – tense up. "Especially when she has a triple degree in sociology, criminology, and psychology, a MA in criminology and forensic science, and a Ph.D in chemistry. And it doesn't help that she is easy on the eyes as well." He squeezed her shoulders.

Gibbs bristled. "Get your damn hands off her!" he all but yelled, straining against the duct tape. Ari's smirk widened.

"As you wish," he said mockingly as he removed his hands from Abby, raising his hands into a palm-up gesture.

"Like I said, Abigail here has considerable skills and prowess that makes her very valuable to any government agency, especially one as fortunate as NCIS. It is a shame that such skills do not translate well into firearms proficiency." Ari's eyes twinkled maliciously as he walked toward Gibbs. "It was embarrassingly easy, and it particularly helped that Dr. Mallard's only experience with firearms was back in the sixties."

"What the hell did you do with them?" Gibbs growled. Ari raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, not much, I am afraid." Gibbs' gut began clenching and unclenching in panic and dread. Kate, Jenny, and Abby's eyes widened.

"If you killed them—"

"Killed? Oh no, I would _never_ do that," Ari interjected, shaking his head. "Especially not to a fellow doctor like Dr. Mallard. As for Timothy, I figured that being shot in the shoulder would be enough of an experience, especially when it could serve as a reminder of his greatest failure. Anthony is, to be frank, not worth the effort."

"You're full of surprises, Ari," Gibbs said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, yes." Ari looked like he realized something. "Speaking of surprises, there was a curious incident in Norfolk yesterday afternoon. You, Caitlin, and Anthony were on the rooftop, dealing with these terrorists. Normally, this would have ended with one of your agents taking a sniper bullet to the head," he looked at Kate before turning back to Gibbs. "And you grieving over the loss, but alas, that did not happen. You all immediately went into cover, and before I knew it, there was a helicopter heading my way. Curious, isn't it?"

"Gut feeling," Gibbs supplied.

Ari's lips turned into a smirk. "Oh, I think it is more than that, Leroy. Tell me, why did that happen? It was as if you knew I was there."

Gibbs tilted his head slightly. "Like I said, gut feeling."

Ari's smirk widened. "And that was not the only thing. My control officer, Ziva, contacted me with the most interesting question last night," he paused for effect. "She asked me why I had requested her to profile you, particularly your family, especially when she never did so in the first place. And that is not mentioning that she was so persistent. I wonder why."

"Why did you?" Gibbs already knew why, but the hell he was going to say it aloud.

Ari raised an eyebrow. "Why did I request Ziva to do that? I was merely curious. How else was I to cause you the pain that you experienced when Shannon and Kelly were killed?"

Gibbs clenched his jaw, his mind flashing back to his long-deceased wife and daughter, and then to laying atop a hill overlooking a long stretch of road, waiting for a _certain_ pickup truck to appear. Kate, Jenny, and Abby looked on in stunned silence. Ari noticed this, mistaking it for confusion.

"His first wife and daughter, killed in 1991 at the orders of a drug dealer. Leroy here was overseas at that time." Ari then had the gall to chuckle. "One can scarcely imagine the pain and anguish that Leroy here went through when he found out. It is not too often that one can get over the loss of the most important females in his life."

Gibbs closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as the metaphorical knife was slowly twisted inside the festering wound. He tried to control the anger, pain, and grief that flowed through his veins. Kate was looking at him with sympathy in her eyes, while Jenny and Abby glared daggers at Ari.

"I must've pissed you off that much, huh?" Gibbs hissed as he opened his eyes, his voice thick with emotion.

Ari shook his head. "Not you. My father. You have the misfortune of reminding me of the bastard."

Just like last time. "He didn't marry your mother or something?"

"That makes me a bastard, not him," Ari growled.

'Damn right,' Gibbs thought to himself.

"From the moment I was born, he raised – even _groomed_ – me to be one thing, and one thing only: a mole in Hamas. When I was old enough, he sent me to Edinburgh to become a doctor so I could work in the Gaza camps alongside my mother. In other words, I was nothing but a tool."

Ari began pacing around, his scowl darkening with every step. "When he had her killed, I had no trouble joining the Iz Adin al-Kassam."

No matter how he tried, assuming he wanted to, Gibbs couldn't even deign to give a damn about Ari. He was beyond redemption as far as he was concerned, and no SOB story would ever change that. "Surely, your father didn't have her killed like that."

"It was a retaliatory strike; it took place when I was visiting him in Tel Aviv. After decades of planning, he at last had his mole in Hamas, a tool to be manipulated and used whenever he felt like it. He never knew how much I hated him...I wish I could see his face when he realizes that he created not a mole, but a monster eager to strike at the heart of Mossad and Israel, a tool of destruction that would eradicate the Israeli state right off the face of the earth."

Except Eli already knew about Ari's treachery and had secretly ordered Ziva to assassinate him as to gain NCIS's trust.

"So, let me get this straight: you hate me because you have daddy issues. I feel sorry for you," Gibbs drawled. He was fairly sure that were it not for the duct tape gag, Kate, Jenny, and Abby would be chuckling.

Ari's face was made out of stone, his eyes like black holes. He then walked over to one of the crafting tables in the back of the basement. Panic began to stir within Gibbs as he realized that it was where—

The USMC M40A1 sniper rifle gleamed under the dim light as Ari carefully lifted it out of the secret compartment in the table. A powerful rifle in its right, the M40A1 was capable of firing accurately up to a thousand yards away. It was lethal in the right hands, more so when it was in Ari Haswari's.

"You never did give me enough credit in our game, Leroy," Ari turned to him, pulling the bolt lever, placing several rounds into the chamber, and pushing the lever back into place. "You deserve to suffer before you die for my father's sins." Gibbs was reminded of the similar words Ari spoke in the nightmare that involved Kate, and he fervently wished Ziva was there to save the day.

"You are going to commit a murder-suicide with your own rifle," Ari continued, chuckling darkly as he began walking toward one of the corners of the basement. "Given what you have been through the past decade, it would be fitting if you...snapped. It would be quite a scene for anyone unfortunate enough to enter here."

Gibbs was overcome with panic, his gut constricting with dread. He knew exactly what Ari was going to do next. Given that Ziva wasn't there to back him up, as was the last time, he had to do something, and _fast_.

"Know this, Ari, you're not going to get away with it!" Gibbs tried to forestall the inevitable, straining his wrists and legs against the duct tape with all his might, to no avail. He locked eyes with Kate, who looked like she had realized what Ari was about to do next. Jenny and Abby began squirming in their seats, trying to get free.

"That is where you are mistaken, Leroy," Ari said as he raised the rifle, aiming it right at Kate. "Before this day is over, I will be in Paris and you will be dead, along with them."

Time seemed to slow down as Gibbs frantically struggled against his bindings, trying to wiggle the chair across the floor as to intercept the shot. He'd seen Kate die right before his very eyes, and the hell he was going to let it happen again. Better it be him than his Katie. And Jenny and Abby and the rest of the team as well.

An ear-splittingly loud shot rang out, piercing the silent air. For that instant, Gibbs' heart completely stopped.

A head jerked back, blood erupting out of the forehead.

The rifle slipped out of Ari Haswari's hands as he slowly crumpled to the floor, landing with a sickening thud as blood and brain matter began to pool around the gaping wound on the back of his head.

Gibbs gaped, wide-eyed at Ari's body lying there. What the hell just happened? He turned to Kate, who was likewise staring at Ari with a shocked expression on her face. Something clicked in his head, and he looked to the basement door.

Never before in his life had he been relieved as he was at this moment. He slowly exhaled as he watched Ziva David slowly descend the stairs, grasping the pistol that she had just shot her half-brother, an unreadable expression on her face.

However, as glad as he was to see the Israeli, Gibbs couldn't help but wonder how and why Ziva was there. Unlike the last time, he hadn't made any plans with her providing backup to Gibbs in case things went south. He wondered if it was what he had said to her last night that caused this.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a cool sensation that gently brushed against his skin. He looked up to find himself face to face with Ziva as she carefully cut away the duct tape from his left wrist with her combat knife, and peeled it away. Her face was a tightly-controlled mask, yet Gibbs would see the confusion, uncertainty, grief, and anguish in her dark eyes. The ends of his lips curled up into a half-smile that conveyed his gratitude and sympathy – if only for her, not for the loss of Ari – and she returned it with a small smile as she focused her attention on the duct tape on his right wrist and legs. She then stood up and went over to Kate.

Standing up and rubbing his slightly sore wrists, Gibbs turned to look at Ari's body sprawled on the floor. Where he had almost felt sorry for the man the last time, he now felt nothing but grim satisfaction as he looked at Ari's lifeless, rounded eyes gazing up at the ceiling, blood seeping out of the bullet hole on his forehead. Twice now, Ari had been vanquished, and the world was now safer. If he had any regrets, it was that he did not have the chance to personally shoot Ari.

He felt a familiar presence next to him, a certain scent wafting in the air around him, and he turned his head to see hazel eyes peering at his bluish-gray orbs. The weight on his shoulder that had lightened after Ari's shooting now dissipated completely as he looked at the beautiful brunette. Before he even knew it, he reached out and wrapped his left arm around her shoulders and pulled her close into a one-armed hug, startling her and himself. After a moment, he felt her arms wrap around his waist firmly, and he couldn't help but smile in contentment. He could feel the others look at them, but he didn't care.

His Katie was safe and sound, and most important of all, alive and well. Ari Haswari would never threaten her ever again. This time around, he had triumphed over Ari for once and for all.

As he continued to hold Kate close, rubbing small circles on her back, Gibbs thought back to the dream. What exactly was it, and what did it mean? Was it a premonition of the future, or was it merely a figment of his imagination that masqueraded as a dream? It had felt so real that it was like he had truly been there, though; he could clearly see her and their daughter, hear their voices, hug them the way he used to give to Shannon and Kelly, feel the warm afternoon sun radiating upon them, feel the hard asphalt beneath his boots. Once again, what did it mean, exactly?

Reluctantly pulling back, Gibbs gave Kate a go-over, checking for any injuries that she might have sustained in Ari's captivity. So far, he couldn't find any, but he would have Ducky do a check later on, just in case. After making sure Ducky himself and the others were okay, of course.

"Are you okay, Katie?" he inquired in a concerned tone.

Kate looked up at him and nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yes, I'm okay."

"Did...did he do anything to you?" he fervently hoped it wasn't the case.

"Apart from shooting me with a tranquilizer pistol, tying me to a chair, and gagging me? No, he didn't." Gibbs couldn't help but let a relieved sigh.

"Thank God," he muttered under his breath. Kate let out a giggle.

Turning his head, Gibbs was immediately pounced upon by a certain pig-tailed forensic scientist.

"Oh Gibbs! I'm _so_ glad you're okay!" Abby wailed as she squeezed his ribs hard, causing Gibbs to wheeze slightly as he put his arms around her shoulders.

"Me too, Abs," he said softly, rubbing her back comfortingly. "Me too."

Abby stepped back slightly, her eyes locking into his. "When Ari appeared at Autopsy, I thought for-for a second that he had killed you and Kate, a-and that he was coming back to finish the job, because why wouldn't he do it otherwise—oh, my God, _Kate_!" Abby latched into Kate, who looked taken back.

Gibbs had to hold back an amused grin at this, but he noticed something out the corner of his eye.

Ziva was standing over Ari's body. Sympathy welled up in his heart, despite the fact he had utterly detested Ziva's half-brother, and he strode over to her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

She turned her head to look at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and gave him a sad smile. He listened as she began singing softly in Hebrew.

He recognized it. It was _El male rachamim_ ("God, full of mercy"), a Jewish mourning song.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So ends the Ari Haswari arc of this story. Hope you enjoyed.


	10. Past Interlude

**A/N:** Thanks to those who reviewed! This story is far from finished; I plan to continue it up to the current season, although not every episode (that would be far too long if I did that, lol). This chapter fills in the interlude between "Kill Ari Part Two" (3.02) and "Mind Games" (3.03).

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. Any resemblance to real dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten:<strong>  
>Past Interlude<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>"Jethro."<p>

He looked up from the computer monitor that he had been staring at for the past ten minutes, the thoughts that had been whirling around in his mind dissipating. Jenny was standing by the railing on the mezzanine, looking right at him. He raised his eyebrows.

"My office."

Gibbs gave an imperceptible nod and stood up from his desk, not seeing Kate's curious gaze as he strode out of the bullpen, and bounded the stairs two steps at a time. Jenny gazed up at him for a moment before turning and walking toward a door near the MTAC.

They passed through the receptionist's office, and entered the small yet sleek office. Gibbs felt some discomfiture as he looked around the office. Everything mostly looked the same, yet something in the air felt different, withstanding the fact that Jenny now occupied it. The last time he was here, he had been commiserating with Leon Vance about the long-running Sergei Mishnev case, particularly the final confrontation with the Russian mercenary who had tried to exact revenge on Gibbs for the death of a friend.

The friend? Ari Haswari.

Now that he thought about it, it struck him as interesting that Mishnev waited for nearly a decade to begin avenging Ari's death.

"You have no idea how long I waited for this, Gibbs. For far too long, Ari Haswari died as a martyr for nothing. He was a man with vision, and you and that Israeli bitch snatched it away from him," Mishnev had said as he paced around in front of a tied-up Gibbs. "This ends now, Gibbs. No more will Ari's memory be sullied for his failure; he shall now be known as the man who vanquished the monster known as Leroy Jethro Gibbs!"

Mishnev had been about to press the trigger right at Gibbs' forehead, when Ellie and DiNozzo burst into the room, guns blazing. Mishnev's gun did go off; had it been a little to the left, Gibbs would not be here right now.

Another memory surfaced in his mind, something to do with what Vance had asked.

"If you could go back in time, what would you change?"

It had been a very strange question, and Gibbs had given his superior a perplexed face before answering with a non-answer, adding that the past couldn't be changed as an after-thought.

He shook his head, a wry smile on his lips. If only Vance knew that his words would become true, and how Gibbs himself had been wrong. If anyone had told him a few days earlier that he would be in this situation, however, he would've probably head-slapped them into a coma.

All the more so if it was DiNozzo.

Jenny went around her desk and sat down on her chair, leaning back as she looked at him thoughtfully.

"I never thought I'd admit this, but you were right," Jenny spoke after a long moment. Gibbs' lips twitched.

"Surely, you didn't come all the way just to tell me that."

Jenny narrowed her eyes slightly, her stern expression betrayed by the curling of her lips. "You're right, I didn't call upon you merely to say that you were right all along," She sighed. "Ziva told me everything. Not only about her work as Mossad control officer, but about her secret interactions with Ari Haswari as well."

Gibbs cocked his head. "And?"

"I didn't want to believe you all along, that your trusty gut was right—"

"You made that clear plenty of times, Madam Director," Gibbs quipped, inciting another glare from the redhead.

"—about Haswari being a terrorist the whole time. To find out the truth straight from the man himself, nevermind being tranquilized and tied up in your basement of all places..." she let out another sigh and shook her head. "It certainly makes you change your mind."

"You know what they say, seeing is believing."

"Indeed. Not only do I find out that Ari was actually working against Mossad the whole time, but I also learn that Ziva had been secretly working with him behind my—NCIS's back."

"Jen, you can't blame her. She truly believed that—" Gibbs was cut off.

"I'm not. Now that I have had some time to think this over, I can sort of see why she did what she did. Still, that still doesn't make it any easier."

"Welcome to the job of Director, with all its benefits and pitfalls."

Jenny chuckled. "I suppose so, considering that I knew what I was in for when I accepted the job."

"Not regretting it, I hope," Gibbs quirked an eyebrow as he placed his hands on the edges of the desk and leaned over slightly. Jenny shook her head emphatically.

"No, far from it. I found myself dragged around on a wild geese chase, engaged in a furious gunfight in a safe house, tranquilized, and tied up by a terrorist mastermind, slated to be executed," she said. "And on my first day as Director. It has proven to be..._interesting_, to put it very lightly, and I am certain it would be a good challenge from time to time." Gibbs smirked at the pointed look she gave him at the last part.

"As I said, you were a good agent. You always enjoyed a good challenge."

It could've been the light, but he could see Jenny's cheeks begin to darken slightly. She leaned forward in her chair, putting her elbows on the desk and locking eyes with him.

"That's true," Jenny agreed. "Otherwise, life would be...dull, uninspiring, and unstimulating."

"You could say that," Gibbs commented lightly, and Jenny cocked her head at him. A comfortable silence descended in the room for a moment.

"You know, you never told me about Shannon and Kelly," Jenny said thoughtfully and Gibbs involuntarily took a breath, cursing Ari once again for revealing what he had kept a closely-guarded secret for years. He wasn't looking forward to explaining why he had never mentioned them to Jenny – and the rest of the team as well – for so long. "How come?"

"Ah...it never came up." It was the truth. During their brief tryst, she had never asked him about his family and he had never answered. Don't ask, don't tell.

"True enough," Jenny conceded, intertwining her fingers. "But still...it shows that even although I have known you for years, there are so much that I still don't know about you." She paused for a moment. "You have my condolences, though."

Gibbs nodded. "Appreciate it." He pushed back from the desk and straightened up. "Go easy on Ziva. She's been through a lot."

Jenny quirked a curved eyebrow, her lips twitching. "Never would've tagged you as a softie," she teased lightly. Gibbs gave her a half-smile.

"Only when it comes to my team," he said truthfully as he turned and walked toward the door. Grasping the door handle, he paused and turned his head to look at her. "Oh, and Jen?"

"Yeah?"

"There's...ah...still some room in my team. Just sayin'," he gave a casual shrug of the shoulder at Jenny's confused face, and strode out of the room.

* * *

><p>As he walked across the mezzanine, he stopped and gazed down at the squad room. He could see Kate at her desk, and his mind went back to the events that had transpired earlier in the day.<p>

After listening to Ziva's mourning song, checking up on Abby and Jenny to make sure they were all right, Gibbs had left the basement, knowing that Jenny would call the NCIS Headquarters to send over an emergency response team to evacuate Ari's body from the basement, and to take the sniper rifle as evidence. After the others followed him to the Ford and got in, with Kate taking the front passenger seat, Gibbs drove to NCIS Headquarters, where he went to check up on DiNozzo. The sight of a bleary-eyed DiNozzo sitting up at his desk sent immense relief through them, and Gibbs went to Autopsy next. A neck pulse check confirmed that Ducky and McGee were alive as well, if unconscious.

Gibbs had thanked every deity he could think of.

As they waited for Ducky and McGee to awaken, Gibbs had Kate and Abby write situation reports. Once they did so, and after Ducky and McGee woke up, Gibbs gave the probationary agent the rest of the week off to recuperate from his injuries, and the rest of the team the rest of the day off as well. He had to use all of his persuasion skills to convince a reluctant Abby to go home; after a solid twenty minutes of cajoling, along with promises of extra-large, 72 oz. "Triple Gulp" fountain cups of Caf-Pow! for the next month, she finally complied.

Not wanting to go back to his house yet, not while Ari's blood still defiled the floor of his basement, Gibbs opted to remain at his desk to finish up any remaining reports. While DiNozzo, McGee, and Abby had went home, and Jenny and Ziva had left for her office, Kate decided to stay with him, much to his surprise and secret delight.

"I'm not leaving you here alone, Gibbs," she had told him firmly when he'd tried to tell her to go home. He remembered smiling slightly as he took in her determined hazel eyes and defiant body posture. He soon found that the persuasion skills that had succeeded on Abby did not work on the ever-stubborn Kate, and after some time, he gave up. Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, he was grateful that she wasn't lying on a slab in Ducky's morgue.

She was not the only one who wanted to remain at the Headquarters: Ducky had insisted on performing the "distasteful" task of examining Ari Haswari's body as soon as possible, as to get it out of the way as soon as possible. The fact the Medical Examiner had called this "distasteful" when he regularly cut open bodies for a living spoke volumes about his regard for the Mossad double-agent.

How ironic, given that Ari held Ducky in high regard.

His mind then turned to the mysterious time phenomenon.

How exactly had it happened? How did he find himself in 2005, in a past where everything that had transpired by then hadn't happened yet. How was it possible, and more importantly, why? Not that he wasn't grateful for this second chance to prevent Kate's death among other things, of course, but still. This was something straight out of a sci-fi novel or movie, and he had this feeling that he would not receive anything even resembling an answer for a long time to come.

Blinking out of his thoughts, Gibbs found that he was leaning against the railing and looking right at Kate. She was staring back, a curious expression on her face. He swallowed, feeling his heart almost skip a beat and his gut to intensify as he recalled the dream, or to be specific, the way she had looked at him in that dream...

He clenched his jaw, tore his eyes away from hers, and walked over to the elevator, feeling her gaze on him the whole time. Pushing the down button, he waited impatiently for the chime that heralded the elevator's arrival, and stepped into the elevator. A short ride later, punctuated by stops in which he used the Glare to scare the other employees away, he entered Autopsy, seeing Ducky washing some of his dissecting tools over the sink.

The Medical Examiner turned to him. "Jethro, what brings you here?"

"Ari Haswari." Gibbs' reply came in a slight growl. His hatred of Ari never abated even after that bastard was dead, and would never for the rest of his life. Ducky furrowed his brow and nodded as he dried his hands.

"Oh yes, the Mossad operative who had been the bane of NCIS's existence – a bête noire, if you will – for the past year. Never before in my life had I had the displeasure of dealing with the cadaver of a formidable adversary, and I have been performing autopsies for as long as I remember."

Ducky walked over to one of the metal slabs that Ari's body presumably laid on.

"Why, I have not forgotten that day when he held Caitlin, Gerald, and myself hostage in this very room, and when he shot Gerald. Imagine my utmost surprise when he re-appeared here this morning and incapacitated us with his tranquilizer gun. And that is not mentioning the fact that he tried to kill dear Abigail and shot Timothy in the shoulder!"

"Yeah. Him." Gibbs was suddenly glad that Ducky was spared from having to deal with Kate's body this time around.

Ducky looked at him, looking contrite. "I must confess that despite the displeasure of dissecting his body, I had this..._perverse_ thrill of measuring his liver. Is that so strange of me?" Gibbs laughed and shook his head.

"Nah, it happens in your line of work, Duck."

Ducky raised an eyebrow before chuckling. "I suppose so. Speaking of Ari, what happened after we were rendered unconscious?"

Gibbs took a deep breath as a tied up Kate, Abby, and Jenny flashed in his mind. "He took Abby with him and brought her to my basement. Knocked Jenny and I out, tied us all up, and was planning to kill her along with Kate and Jenny."

Ducky's eyes widened. "Oh my good Lord. Did you get him?"

Gibbs shook his head. "No, his control officer, Ziva, whacked him."

"I suppose that it is something of a pity of Ari did not believe in karma."

"Ain't that a shame," Gibbs remarked sardonically.

"Well, considering that I have finished the autopsy, I might as well inform you the results. Ari Haswari was, as you are well aware of, shot through the forehead, although not at point-blank range. In fact, the burns created by the percussion of the bullet that passed through his skull—" Ducky made a small circling gesture with a finger on his forehead. "—suggests that he was shot from a distance. Ziva must have pulled off a very impressive shot to achieve that."

Gibbs felt pride well up in his heart at the thought of the Israeli. "She did."

"As grievous as the wound on the forehead was, it does not compare to the one that he sustained in the back of the head. Ziva must have used either a particularly powerful pistol or a sniper rifle at a fairly close range, but I suppose you might not want me to elaborate any further on that. The Director should have my report shortly if not already."

Gibbs nodded. "Thanks Duck."

"No, thank you, Jethro. It was through your and your team's efforts that the threat known as Ari Haswari was stopped for once and for all," Ducky admonished and Gibbs chuckled.

"You give me too much credit," he said as he left the room.

* * *

><p>As he saw Kate at her desk, Gibbs hesitated for an instant before he continued on. Stopping at her desk, he wordlessly gazed at her, and she looked up from the reports she was working on.<p>

"You sure you don't want to go home, Katie?" he cocked his head. "These reports can wait until tomorrow."

Kate raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smile. "Are you trying to get rid of me, Gibbs?" she organized her reports and placed them into a folder before setting it aside.

Gibbs shook his head. "Thought you'd like to take some rest. You've been through quite a bit, y'know."

"So have you." Gibbs could practically hear the concern in the brunette's voice. "If anything else, you look like you could use a long rest."

Gibbs couldn't help the soft rumbling that came out of his throat. "Rest's overrated," he said with a nonchalant shrug. Kate narrowed her eyes slightly.

"Everything's overrated with you," she retorted, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Except coffee." _And you_, he thought to himself. He furrowed his brow when Kate's eyes widened a bit and looked down, her cheeks beginning to redden. He closed his eyes, holding back a groan as he realized too late that he had said the last part out loud. He gave himself a mental slap.

He needed coffee.

"Ah...well, since we're not going home anytime soon, I'm gonna get coffee. Wanna one?"

Kate looked up, her lips lengthening into a smile that momentarily took his breath away. "Sure."

Gibbs blinked in surprise when she stood up from her desk, grabbed her jacket and began tugging it on. "Lead the way," Kate grinned as she took a step toward him. Swallowing as her scent assailed his nose, Gibbs gave her a half-smile.

"Of course, milady," he went to his desk and grabbed his overcoat, putting it on.

A comfortable silence descended between the two as they rode the elevator, passed through the front atrium, and walked past the parking lot toward the coffee shop around the corner. The inundating rain had stopped, and the warm sun was now high in the sky, its rays reflecting off the still-damp ground.

The strong aroma of coffee greeted him as he entered the Lot 38 Espresso Bar, following Kate to the counter. "The usual, Jethro?" Joe, the bearded barista, inquired with a friendly grin.

"Do you have to ask, Joe?" He always ordered strong espresso, being something of a regular customer there.

Joe chuckled. "Have to ask. And what would your girlfriend like?" Gibbs felt his heart jolt at the thought of Kate being referred as his girlfriend, and he glanced at Kate, who looked flustered.

"Ah...caramel vanilla cream for the lady."

He wanted to head-slap himself for not correcting Joe, and wondered how the hell he knew Kate's favorite coffee. If he remembered correctly, he had let Kate order her coffee and hadn't thought much about what type of coffee she liked. He clenched his jaw at the mischievous gleam in Joe's eyes – which looked disconcertingly like DiNozzo's – and kept his eyes on the overhead menu, feeling her gaze on him.

The silence between them wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but it felt..._different_. After what seemed like an inordinately long time, Joe appeared with two paper cups of coffee. With a nod of thanks, Gibbs paid for the cups and took them over to a round table by the window, sitting down on it. Kate sat across from him.

"I'm surprised you knew my favorite coffee," Kate broke the silence and Gibbs looked at her.

"Me too," he half-joked with a slight curving of his lips.

Kate chuckled as she gazed at him. He took a larger gulp than usual, momentarily distracted by the scalding liquid that slithered down his throat. The clenching sensation in his gut definitely wasn't caused by the coffee.

Wishing he had brought something to read, even one of the reports that he normally refrained from reading if he could help it, Gibbs settled on gazing out the window, seeing various cars whiz by and passerby walking on the streets.

"I'm sorry." Gibbs blinked and looked at her, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Never apologize—" he began saying automatically.

"—it is a sign of weakness," Kate interrupted, the corners of her lips curling up in slight amusement. "But I mean it, I'm sorry about what happened to your family. Ari had no right to bring it up." Her eyebrows were furrowed, her hazel eyes slightly darker than usual.

Gibbs' lips quirked into a half-smile. "You have nothing to apologize, Katie. And I made that rule for a reason, y'know."

"Rules are made to be broken, or at least bent in this case," Kate bantered, the scowl fading away from her face. Gibbs cocked his head, his smirk dancing on his lips.

"Speaking from experience, Agent Todd?"

"Considering that working for you is an experience in itself, Special Agent Gibbs, _yes_," Kate retorted. He couldn't help the rumble of laughter as he sipped his coffee.

"Still, unless you arranged for that dealer to target them back then, you have nothing to apologize for."

"_Still_, I want to," Kate reiterated, taking a careful sip of her coffee. Gibbs looked at her for a moment before nodding curtly.

"Appreciate it, Katie." Without thinking, he placed his right hand over her left one and gave it a gentle squeeze. Kate blinked as she looked between him and their hands before squeezing his fingers in return. Slowly, as if reluctantly, he pulled his hand back, resting it on his cup. It was still tingling for some reason.

"Did anyone know about it?"

"Until today, no," Gibbs replied. "You're the first one to find out. Well, along with Abby, Jen—Director Shepard, and Ziva, that is." He refused to include Ari's name in that sentence.

Kate nodded slowly, gazing thoughtfully at him, and Gibbs shifted slightly in his seat, feeling like he was being profiled. "I see," she said as she sipped her coffee, leaving it at that. Gibbs raised his eyebrows slightly, feeling thankful for her consideration yet a bit disappointed that she did not inquire any further.

"They would've liked you," he said after a moment, slowly rotating his cup in his hands. Kate blinked at this.

"Really?"

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah." he would've left it at that, but for some reason, he found himself speaking further. "She—Shannon—was a great judge of character, you two would've gotten along great." It was true; how else was she able to put up with him for the nine years of their marriage? Sure, he had been somewhat less of a bastard back then, but still.

Kate nodded, a small smile on her face. Gibbs raised the cup to his lips, hiding the smile that was lacing his face.


	11. Cutting the Past Out

**A/N:** Thanks to those who reviewed; I appreciate it! We're now entering the boondocks, and oh boy, it's gonna be quite a ride!

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. I don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Mind Games" (3.03), even although some of them have been altered to fit this story. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven:<strong>  
>Cutting the Past Out<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p><em>June 18, 2005<em>  
><em>9:28 AM<em>  
><em>Abandoned farm<em>  
><em>North of Waverly, VA<em>

A white Ford E-series van with reinforced windows pulled to a stop in front of what appeared to be an abandoned, dilapidated Gothic-style barn on a grassy clearing. The words 'Sussex State Prison' were displayed on its sides and 'Sussex County, Bureau of Prisons' on the back, both printed in black. Several heavily-armed state troopers got out of their escort vehicles; two of them walked over to the back of the van and opened its double doors.

A man in his mid- to late thirties stepped out, clad in a bright orange prison jumpsuit, his hands and feet manacled. The heavy and thick leg cuffs rattled as he took several steps toward the large Gothic-style barn, flanked by the guards, one of them pointing a shotgun at his back.

Upon reaching the barn, with a gesture from one of the officials, the troopers pulled the large double doors open. They cautiously crept into the largely-deserted barn, keeping a lookout for anything out of the ordinary among the bales of hay that sparsely littered the barn's floor.

The prisoner jerked his chin upwards toward the top of the barn's ceiling. "It's up there."

One of the prison officials escorting the prison, an Officer McGraw, raised his eyebrows skeptically before his superior, Warden Sam Kelleher, nodded for him to get up the nearby ladder to the loft. As McGraw did so, Kelleher looked at the prisoner, a slightly irritated expression on his face.

"I hope this wasn't a total waste of my time, Boone," he said. "You promised us bodies."

The man known as Boone smirked. "One thing at a time, Warden. I promised you, after all, and I intend to keep it. As I said, my..._souvenirs_ are up there in the loft." He gestured toward the barn with his hands as much as his manacles allowed him, the chains rattling slightly as he did so.

The Warden's brow furrowed in confusion. "Souvenirs?" Boone's reply was to smirk as several pigeons flew out of the lot, nearly catching McGraw off-guard.

"Found something!" McGraw's voice called out several moment later. "I'm not exactly sure what it is," he began descending the ladder, carefully holding what appeared to be a large glass jar. One of the steps gave away, however, and McGraw let out a startled yell as he plummeted to the ground; the jar fell from his hands and shattered on impact, its contents scattering on the floor.

The concerned yells of the officials at McGraw's welfare were soon replaced by exclamations of disgust.

"What the hell is _that_?!" Kelleher scrunched his face up at the contents, looking like he was about to hurl.

Boone's grin widened, his eyes twinkling sadistically. "Those, my friend, are my souvenirs."

Scattered across the ground in front of the assembled officials and state troopers were dried, severed remains of human tongues.

"They were always my favorite sexual organs," Boone mused as he looked at the tongues, a wistful expression on his face. The Warden's scowl deepened and he rounded on the prisoner.

"Where are the girls?"

Boone's grin widened. "Close," he drawled. "But you have to give me a little something in return for them, Sam."

The Warden gritted his teeth as he took a step toward Boone. "The only thing you're going to get from me is your last meal!" he turned to the state troopers. "Take this animal back to death row."

As the troopers grabbed Boone's arms, ready to drag him back to the van, Boone opened his mouth. "What about the victims' families? I'm their last chance for closure, after all!"

The Warden looked like he was debating with himself whether to listen to what this prisoner had to say or ignore him and order him to be violently tossed into the van like the rabid animal he truly was. He let out a long sigh, looking like he was going to regret it.

"What is it you want?"

Boone's eyes gleamed, his smirk widening.

"Not much, just the man who put me in these," he put up his wrists. "NCIS Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

* * *

><p>"<em>Still<em>, you shouldn't have done that."

Gibbs chuckled at Kate's grumbling and even more at the glare she was shooting at him. He glanced at the numbers that steadily blinked on the position indicator near the top of the elevator doors. They had just passed the second floor and were heading toward the third.

"Can't help that I like to be on top," Gibbs raised his coffee cup to his lips to hide his grin. Kate's glare intensified as her face began to turn red.

"Yeah, especially when you were pinning me to the floor, manhandling my poor body like there was no tomorrow! I'm gonna be _sore_ for the next several months, no thanks to you!" She shot back, throwing her hands up.

Gibbs' eyes twinkled under the elevator lights. "I thought you liked it rough, Katie."

"Not the way you do it, Gibbs!"

Laughter rumbled out of his throat. "Well, you sure weren't complaining last night." Kate's blush intensified.

"Given the way you were holding me there, how was I supposed to complain? You always like to keep at it right to the very end!" Gibbs raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening.

"You sure we were talking about wrestling just now?" he casually sipped his coffee once again, trying not to think about the way his body had reacted when she had squirmed under him, as Kate began to sputter. The elevator doors opened and he stepped out before she could get a word out.

"Why—you—I—" she took a deep breath as she trailed after her boss. "You _always _cheat at wrestling, and you _know_ it, Gibbs!" she protested, her face still tinted red.

"Hey, what you call 'cheating'," Gibbs pointed out as he turned around and raised a finger. "I call it 'winning'." Kate rolled her eyes.

"Figures!" she huffed, shaking her head.

Gibbs chuckled as he turned around again, only to stop in his tracks, Kate nearly bumping into his back, when he saw what was displayed on the plasma screen. Staring back at him was a familiar, smug face of the man who terrorized the District in the nineties – and who had long been an elusive predator. Not for nothing was Kyle Boone known as the "Tongue Stalker" during that time.

"The hell's he doing on my screen?" Gibbs growled as he glared at the screen. Seeing that damned face brought back long-dormant memories, unpleasant ones.

"We heard you were interviewing Kyle Boone, and we assumed that we would be providing backup," a familiar female voice made him jolt out of his impromptu glaring match with Boone, and he turned to its source, his eyes widening slightly.

Standing in front of him was the Pentagon-based NCIS Special Agent Paula Cassidy.

As he stared at the blonde, he thought back to the last time he saw her, when she pounced upon a terrorist mastermind to stop him from detonating a powerful bomb strapped to his body that fateful day in April 2007. She succeeded, pushing him into an adjoining room and slamming the revolving wall shut behind her, but at the expense of her life as the ensuing explosion consumed her body and that of the terrorist, sending shockwaves throughout the floor they were on. Although they had a tense relationship at times, her death had greatly saddened him, although not so much as DiNozzo, who visibly looked devastated.

"Boss?"

He blinked out of his thoughts, his vision refocusing to see the concerned faces of Kate, DiNozzo, McGee, and Paula looking at him. He sighed inwardly; he had to stop doing this whenever he came face-to-face with a long-dead person. It was rather unbecoming of him.

"You were saying something about Boone?"

DiNozzo and Paula exchanged looks. "Um, as I said, we found out that you would interview Boone and thought we'd help you out," Paula spoke up. "The Governor of Virginia has requested you to talk with him, and he's on standby at the MTAC."

Gibbs swallowed, looking around the bullpen. "Find her a desk," he said as he began walking toward the stairs.

"Which desk, Boss? There aren't any around—"

"Find one, DiNozzo!" Gibbs snapped as he bounded up the stairs. A minute later, he was standing in the darkened MTAC, looking at a live-feed screen of Governor Charles Norin, who was sitting at his desk in Richmond.

"_With the recommendation of Director Shepard here, I have decided to request that you meet with Kyle Boone in order to ascertain the locations of his undiscovered victims. Will you do it?_"

Despite his knowledge of the future, Gibbs wasn't looking forward to meeting Boone again. The man had played games with him back in 1995, dangling false promises only to renege on them at the worst possible moment (among other things). He'd rather undergo a root canal procedure, without anesthetic, than relive the summer of 1995 all over again.

And besides, even if he accepted right away, it wouldn't do much to expedite Boone's execution, which was already scheduled for Saturday.

"With all due respect, sir, why should I meet with him? It would only be a waste of time."

Norin leaned forward in his desk. "_Perhaps, but if there's a chance – however slim – that he would tell you the location of his victims, we have to take it._"

Gibbs cocked his head. "Somehow I doubt it. I spent five months interrogating him. He wouldn't budge back then, why would he do so now?"

"_Perhaps he wants to re-evaluate his life choices now that he's facing imminent death?_" Norin suggested, intertwining his hands.

"Somehow, I don't think it's in his interests."

"_Well, it's been a decade. People change._"

Gibbs couldn't disagree more. "Not Kyle Boone."

The Governor raised his eyebrows and leaned forward. "_Are you refusing to meet with him?_"

Gibbs shook his head. "No, sir. I'm just wondering about why I should go over to entertain a homicidal maniac who tortured and killed twenty-two women."

"_But the hundreds of family members who lost a daughter, a sister, or a mother would receive some closure, and what better to do that than a person who brought Boone to justice on their behalf?_"

_Spoken like a true politician_, Gibbs thought, but didn't voice it aloud. "You do realize that he wouldn't be willing to tell us the locations of the victims, right?"

"_There's no harm in trying_," Norin said. "_Either way, he goes to the electric chair on Saturday. But it would be better if we got one last confession out of him. Will you do it, Agent Gibbs?_"

Gibbs heaved out a sigh, glancing at Jenny. "I suppose so." He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the self-satisfied look in the Governor's eyes and the proud expression on Jenny's face as she spoke to the Governor in turn.

Giving the Director one last glance, Gibbs headed out of MTAC and descended the stairs. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the others turn their heads to him.

"Where you going, Boss?" DiNozzo inquired as Gibbs passed him, grabbing his overcoat from behind his chair.

"Sussex State Prison to interview Kyle Boone. Be gone the rest of the day," he replied, heading toward the elevator.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Kate called out, not seeing DiNozzo raise his eyebrows. Gibbs turned to the brunette, the corner of his lips curling up. As much as he wanted her to go with him, he didn't want her to be anywhere in the vicinity of Boone. He didn't want his Katie to be the last thing Boone saw before he went to the electric chair, if he could help it. After all, brunettes were Boone's favorite victims.

"Nah, you stay here, Katie," he said as he began putting his overcoat on. "Do some report work, keep DiNozzo on his leash, something." He ignored DiNozzo's indignant "Hey!" as he entered the elevator.

* * *

><p>"We moved Boone to Death Watch on Monday," Warden Sam Kelleher was explaining as Gibbs followed him through the front doors of Sussex State Prison into the front reception room. "That's when he decided to talk."<p>

_Mightily convenient_, Gibbs thought.

"We do things a little different here in Virginia. The condemned get a choice: lethal injection or death by electrocution. Boone is the first one to choose the latter," the Warden continued as they made their way toward the isolation ward that Boone was held in.

"He deserves worse." Gibbs meant it with all his heart. He noticed something out the corner of his left eye and turned his head to see the person approach him. His gut clenched.

"Special Agent Gibbs?" the person spoke, extending a hand in greeting. "I'm Adam O'Neill, Kyle Boone's attorney." Gibbs narrowed his eyes slightly at the slick lawyer who had been secretly committing the killings on Boone's behalf. He didn't want to grasp the hand who had strangled the lives out of many an innocent woman, but then a thought came to his mind.

"Pleased to meet you." He grasped O'Neill's hand and squeezed it too hard, making the lawyer wince in pain. This could easily be passed off as a Marine thing (and it was).

"I appreciate y-your coming," O'Neill groaned as Gibbs continued to maintain the pressure. "I, uh, I understand that you're reluctant to, but I, ah, truly believe that my client's intentions are sincere here." He all but let out a relieved sigh when Gibbs let go, massaging his hand. Kelleher quirked an eyebrow.

"The day I arrested your client, we found two human female tongues in his refrigerator," Gibbs said, subconsciously fisting his hands.

"I'm familiar with the case, Agent Gibbs," O'Neill said smoothly. Gibbs' jaw clenched.

"Really?" he all but spat out. "You familiar with the names of his victims?" O'Neill looked taken aback.

"Uh, look, I'm not here to talk about the past," the lawyer pointed out. "I'm trying to save a man's life." Gibbs inwardly snorted at this.

"Boone wants a deal?"

O'Neill shook his head. "No, he wants the chair for his crimes. I'm hoping to get him life in prison."

"How noble of you," Gibbs said sarcastically. O'Neill blinked at this, looking over at the Warden in slight confusion.

"Agent Gibbs, I'm trying to do my job here, like you are doing yours. Perhaps together we can both help the victims' family find some closure."

"You want closure? Be there Saturday, you'll be able to see them get that."

"Ehm," Kelleher cleared his throat, catching their attention. "Right this way, gentlemen," he gestured toward the ward.

"Actually, Mister Boone wants to meet with Agent Gibbs...alone," O'Neill pointed out, glancing at Gibbs.

"Fine by me," Gibbs said. O'Neill looked surprised, as if he was expecting him to object or something.

Kelleher led the way to the ward. As they reached the sliding door that led to a vestibule outside the tiny cell, the Warden turned to him. "There's a guard out here if you need him." Gibbs was partly-listening to him, his eyes fixated on the man who was reclining on his bed in the cell ahead. The man who should be dead all over again.

He walked into the vestibule, the door sliding open and closing behind him as he stopped before the cell door.

Right on cue, Boone's eyes opened and his face broke into a wide grin. "Nice to see you again, Jethro. I wasn't sure if you'd come, but here you are!"

Gibbs gritted his teeth at the maddeningly confident expression on Boone's face. He did not look like a condemned prisoner slated for the chair, but an overconfident frat boy whose rich father would get him off the hook.

"You have two minutes. Start talking." Not that he expected Boone to tell him right away.

"You know, you look nearly the same, except for the hair," Boone sidestepped the question. "When did it go gray?"

"Where are the bodies?" He knew where, of course.

"We'll get to that," Boone said dismissively with a wave of the hand. "There's a few things I need to ask you."

"Let me guess, they're about your 'souvenirs'?" Gibbs remembered Boone's tendency to collect the tongues of his victims after killing them. It was one of his calling cards, and he shuddered to think what he probably did with them back then.

Boone blinked, his grin widening. "Wow, how did you know that?"

Gibbs cocked his head slightly. "Lucky guess."

"Huh, here I thought you would bait me or otherwise denigrate my rep. I guess you're really showing your age."

Gibbs let his lips curl a little. "Baiting never worked on you anyways. Where are the bodies?"

Boone sat up on his bed. "Can't we just chat for a bit? I'm sure you didn't come all the way here just to ask a few questions about bodies and yadda dadda," he said. "How's the wife? She left you, didn't she? I tried to warn you about that. Women can't understand men like us, always nagging and bitching about shit."

"Better to cut off their tongues, right?"

Boone guffawed. "Oh, I always love your sense of humor! I must admit, I've missed it."

"You're about to miss it, given that you have three days left. How does that feel?" Gibbs said sardonically.

Boone shrugged. "Terrified, actually." he didn't look terrified at all. "Weird, considering my former activities."

"Yeah, weird, considering that you're somehow in several places at once."

Boone laughed. "It sure looks that way, huh?"

"It looks like a copy-cat killer to me, don't ya think?" Gibbs said with a casual shrug. Boone blinked before he smirked.

"Wow, guess your age didn't quite catch up to you yet. And isn't the two minutes up?"

"Extended it by two more minutes." Boone raised his eyebrows.

"That's a tad generous, don't you think?"

"Found that I missed talking to you," Gibbs remarked, and Boone let out another guffaw, slapping his knee.

"Now there's that Gibbs humor again!"

"You want more of my humor, you tell me where the bodies are."

"Aw, come on," Boone protested. "If I tell you, then you'll leave and never come back. That's not a nice thing to do to a condemned prisoner who's on the verge of electrocuted, isn't it?" Gibbs narrowed his eyes slightly.

"It wasn't a nice thing to kidnap, rape, and kill innocent young women, and cut out their tongues as some prize, wasn't it?"

"Come on, you don't believe what they said, do you?" Boone threw his hands up. "I may have committed vile, unspeakable deeds over many years, but I can assure you that rape wasn't one of them." Gibbs knew he was lying.

"I don't know, you look like you were into that kind of thing."

"Ouch, that was a low blow," Boone feigned hurt, putting his hand over his chest. "You really have changed. The old Gibbs would never say that."

"Age changes people. One last chance: where is the dumping ground?"

Boone smirked. "Oh, wouldn't you like to know?"

"Wouldn't you like to know what's it like to be slowly fried in that chair?" Gibbs growled, wishing that Ziva had been in NCIS at this time. She would've easily broken Boone down in less than a minute. This 'game' had gone on long enough, it was 1995 all over again.

"I see you haven't cut back on the caffeine like I told you."

"See you Saturday." Gibbs turned around and walked toward the sliding door, slamming his palm on the button.

"Wait! You can't leave! Come on, I was only messing around with you," Boone cried out, making him stop in his tracks. "You're here because you're following orders like a good Marine, right? I'll tell you where they are, where they all are, I swear! There's more than twenty-two, Jethro. _Lot_ more."

Gibbs wordlessly passed through the sliding door, getting his cell out. He was about to press the speed dial number when a thought struck him. With a reluctant sigh, Gibbs flipped the cell closed and turned around.

"Changed your mind, Gibbs?" Boone chuckled when Gibbs re-entered.

"Decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. For that, you get three minutes instead of the usual two."

Boone laughed. "Oh, your generosity overwhelms me. Surely a man like me shouldn't deserve it."

"You said you would tell me where the remains were." Gibbs went straight to business. "Out with it."

"Oh...that's the thing," Boone pretended to be conflicted. "I don't want to ruin your generosity. No, really, I don't. But, you see...well, I'm not sure if you know it or not, but I have a—"

"Scrapbook, I know." Gibbs interrupted.

Boone blinked in surprise, raising his eyebrows. "Damn! You've always had a knack for that kind of shit. That's how you caught me, after all." the serial killer laughed aloud. "But you are right, I do have a scrapbook. But that's kinda the thing...you see, I need to see it one more time, just to refresh my memory. It's not what it's used to be, y'know."

"Don't worry, it's gonna be fired up in a few days."

Boone chuckled and shook his head. "That's what it is, Jethro. You find the scrapbook, I will help you. I swear."

"One minute left. I suggest you use it wisely to tell me the locations."

"Fine, since you asked so _nicely_," Boone shrugged. "The victims are located in..." he trailed off.

"Forty-five seconds."

"Let me think about it a bit. As I told you, my memories' not what it used to be."

"Thirty seconds."

"Gosh, you can be so impatient." Boone tsk-tsked, shaking his head. "But very well."

"Twenty-four seconds."

"Jethro, I can't focus properly with you pressuring me like that," Boone chided.

"You want pressure? You have thirteen seconds on the clock!"

"I guess I'll have to make the best use of it, then," he then thought about it, or pretended to. Gibbs couldn't tell. "The victims...they are in..."

"The state of Virginia!" Boone laughed.

"Time's out. Enjoy the electric chair."

"Don't forget the scrapbook!" Boone called after Gibbs' retreating back.

He walked over to Kelleher and O'Neill, who were standing outside the ward.

"It went well, I presume?" O'Neill inquired with a polite smile. Gibbs politely ignored him.

"Didn't get any headway with Boone," he explained to the Warden. "I want him transferred to NCIS right away."

"What? You can't do that, you have no—" the lawyer was cut off when Kelleher nodded his assent. "This can be arranged."

With a nod of satisfaction, Gibbs gave O'Neill one last penetrating glare before he left.


	12. Electrocuting the Past

**A/N:** Since I completed this chapter right after the last one, and I'm feeling generous, so here's this update. Hope you enjoy.

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. I don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Mind Games" (3.03), even although some of them have been altered to fit this story. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve:<strong>  
>Electrocuting the Past<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>"He's been like a statue all night," Kate commented as she stood in the darkened Observation Room, arms crossed, looking at Boone through the one-way glass. "According to the watch, he hasn't moved a single muscle." Boone was standing in front of the table in the Interrogation Room, his hands clasped in front of him, looking straight ahead.<p>

Gibbs glanced at the brunette, remembering that Ducky had said pretty much the same words the last time. This made him think about how Ducky had taken over Kate's profiling responsibilities after her death the first time around; he shook the thought off. "What's your take on that?"

Kate glanced at him. "You want the long or short version?" she teased slightly, the ends of her lips curling up. Gibbs chuckled.

"The shortest one possible." Kate's eyes twinkled.

"Well, he's certainly deranged, I'll give you that." Kate shuddered a little. "His posture seems to suggest that he will stop at nothing to get something that he wants, that is, to see you face-to-face. Everything else is secondary to him, which may explain his refusal to take a seat, whereas any other person would have already done so. I have this hunch that once you get in there, he will return to 'normal' and his game would proceed in earnest."

"I suppose I'll have to start the interrogation, then," Gibbs sipped his coffee. "And that definitely wasn't the shortest."

Kate's lips twitched. "I did my best. But still...you don't have to do this, Gibbs. There are other ways to find his victims without talking to him."

"But I do, Katie," Gibbs said as he looked at Boone, whose deadened eyes were piercing his.

"Why?" Kate inched closer to him, gazing at him in curiosity and concern. Gibbs looked over at her for a moment.

"Ten years ago, I couldn't break him. Bastard kept playing games with me for months on end, relishing in the fact that I couldn't get him despite the fact that I had caught him."

"But you caught and brought him to justice. He's already been sentenced to death and will fry come Saturday," Kate pointed out as she glanced at Boone. "He can play mind games all he wants, but you triumphed over him in the end. There's nothing he could do about that."

He had to agree with that. But still, despite the fact Boone had been executed the first time around and Gibbs had personally witnessed the execution, he still had a strong desire to see the bastard fry for his crimes this time. As far as Gibbs was concerned, Boone didn't deserve to live for what he did.

"That doesn't change the fact that he knows where the victims are, and I wouldn't put it past him to hold that over my head right to his last, dying breath."

"Well, we'll have to do our best, then."

"We will, Katie." he gave her his lopsided smile as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave it a gentle squeeze before walking out of Observation.

As soon as Gibbs entered Interrogation, Boone seemed to 'thaw', taking a seat at the table, a smirk slowly coming across his face. Glancing at the one-way mirror, where he knew Kate was undoubtedly looking at him, Gibbs took a seat across from Boone.

"Finally, about time you showed up." Boone shook his head, a bemused expression on his face. "So...where should we start this time, Jethro?"

"Good question," Gibbs commented mildly, twiddling his thumbs.

"Anything you want to know about? My childhood? My prison life? My photographs?"

"How about the victims' locations?"

"Ah, ah, let's not go too fast, Jethro," Boone said in a tsk-tsking tone that grated Gibbs' nerves. "I will tell you everything in due time. I promise. And speaking of which, you never showed me the scrapbook."

"Never made such a promise."

Boone's eyes twinkled. "But you always follow up on them, whether you say it or not."

"Not to serial killers like you."

Boone chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh you and your pretty little labels. I prefer not think of myself as a serial killer. More like a sick person who had been overwhelmed by his unnatural urges all his life." he grinned toothily.

"Well, you're in luck then. Your treatment's awaiting you in thirty-six hours. There's nothing a jolt of electricity can't cure." Boone let out a laugh that echoed around the otherwise silent room.

"Why should I need the chair when I have your sense of humor to bide me over? You know what they say: laughter is the best medicine."

"Electricity is better," Gibbs said flatly. "Now...the location."

"We're going back to that? You're persistent. Is that why you brought me all the way here?"

"Had no choice. The state is hoping that I'll get the location of your victims," Gibbs cocked his head, leaning back slightly in his chair. "If it was up to me, you'd be rotting in that cell of yours until your final day."

"But you brought me here, Jethro," Boone pointed out. "That takes effort. That's why I like you."

"Worth the effort of taking you out of the system," Gibbs retorted. "Instead of Sussex, you're gonna rot here, all alone, without any human contact until you fry."

"But at least I'm enjoying your company," Boone chuckled as he looked around the room. "Gosh, this brings back so many memories, doesn't it? Remember that, Jethro? All these days, weeks, and months where you fruitlessly grilled me in this very room, years ago? You were pathetic back then."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching, as he fought not to rise up to Boone's bait. Just when he was about to open his mouth, a knock sounded on the door. Feeling irritation – and strangely, relief – course through him at the violation of Rule 22, Gibbs fixed the prisoner with one last glare before standing up and walking over to the door.

"I'll be here if you need me," Boone called out.

Stepping out into the hall, closing the door behind him, Gibbs came face-to-face with Kate. He felt his irritation fade away.

"What is it, Katie?"

"Boone's attorney is here," Kate replied.

"The DA's afraid if we deny him access, he'll find a sympathetic judge and have the execution delayed," Paula interjected, walking up with DiNozzo behind her.

Gibbs inwardly let out an exasperated sigh. "Don't they all?" he muttered, causing Kate to grin.

As if right on cue, he heard footsteps behind him, and turned to see O'Neill walk toward him, holding a cell to his ear. Hanging up, O'Neill turned to Gibbs.

"I need a privileged conversation with my client. That means—"

"You want me to clear the Observation Room and turn off all microphones, is that it?" Gibbs cut in, making the attorney blink in surprise.

"Uh, yeah, that's the gist."

"Well, you'll have to wait, then. I'm not finished with Boone yet."

"Agent Gibbs, I did not come all the way only to be turned away—"

"Counselor, I did not conduct an interrogation only to be dismissed like some lackey!" Gibbs snapped, balling his fists, making O'Neill flinch slightly.

"I understand that, but still—"

"You can have your client when I'm finished with him. Until then, you'll wait out here. _Got it_?" Gibbs took a step toward O'Neill, causing him to step back.

"Got it," the attorney muttered reluctantly, looking chagrined. "Still, if anything happens to my client—"

"I'm aware of that," Gibbs cut him off before turning to DiNozzo.

"Have the guards search him thoroughly," he then locked eyes with Kate before returning to Interrogation, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Gladly," DiNozzo grinned as he dangled a plastic glove in front of O'Neill's face.

* * *

><p>"Ohh, that was quite a slam if I ever heard one," Boone commented as Gibbs returned to his seat. "Now that truly brings back memories."<p>

"Now's not the time for your games," Gibbs growled. "The location of the victims. _Now_."

"Aaaaand we're back to this," Boone drawled, intertwining his hands. "I've told you before and I'll say it again: you bring me my scrapbook, and I'll show you." He paused for a moment. "And I have never considered any of this a game, Jethro. You know that," he had a condescending smile.

"If this isn't a game, then what would you call it?" Gibbs said through gritted teeth. Boone shrugged.

"Life," he grinned cheekily.

"You're about to lose this damn game pretty soon."

"C'mon, Jethro. Don't think of it as winning or losing. It's all about the fun."

Gibbs took a couple of deep breaths. A certain heart-shaped face popped into his mind and he felt his anger simmer down. He wondered why he was getting this worked up when he already knew about the victims' locations and the actual killer. He guessed Boone had somehow gotten under his skin as was the last time around. He vowed not to let it happen again.

Speaking of which...

"Hell of a lawyer you have there," Gibbs spoke up. Boone blinked at this abrupt change of subject.

"Excuse me?"

"That lawyer of yours. O'Neill. Name rings any bells?" Gibbs said sarcastically as he reclined in his chair.

Boone stared at him suspiciously before his lips slowly curled up. "Of course. He's my lawyer. What's it to you?"

Gibbs shrugged. "You tell me. He was quite..._persistent_ on having a talk with you. You're lucky, I wish my lawyers were like that in the past."

Boone raised his eyebrows in surprise. "He's out there?" Gibbs smirked.

"Right outside in the hall at this moment. I told him to hold on while I finished our pleasant conversation here."

Boone steadily gazed at him, his face schooled in a serious expression. "I think I'd like to speak with him, please."

Gibbs let out a laugh. "Already? If I remember correctly, you were quite anxious to have a conversation with me back at Sussex. Or did your memory conk out on you again?"

Boone squared his jaw, his eyes darkening. "I'd like to speak with my lawyer." Gibbs laughed once again.

"As you wish." He stood up. "You know what, Boone?"

The aforementioned prisoner raised his eyebrows.

"A decade ago, I would've _killed_ for a lawyer like O'Neill, considering my failed marriages. A strong, proactive, and more importantly, _dedicated_ lawyer who wasn't afraid to take a _stab_ at my problems, particularly with my ex-wife..." Gibbs had to hold back a smirk when Boone's eyes widened slightly. "It could've saved me plenty of heartbreak down the road. True, I was away most of the time, given that the wife had hell of a tongue, but still."

He walked toward the door, grasping the knob. "As I said, you're lucky, Boone. I'd hang on to that one if I were you."

"Your turn, O'Neill," Gibbs walked past said lawyer in the hallway, who had a confused expression on his face, gesturing for Kate, DiNozzo, and Paula to follow him. At that moment, his cell rang, and Gibbs picked it up, knowing what it was about.

"Gibbs! You'll never guess what we found!" Abby's excited voice emitted from the cell, and Gibbs found himself smiling at the forensic specialist's exuberance.

"Let me guess, Abs: you found his dumping ground?" he could literally hear her blink through the phone.

"How did you know? Oh, that's a stupid question! Of course you know, you always do. You're Gibbs, after all. You wouldn't be Gibbs if you didn't know everything. Aw, what the heck. How did you know that?!"

Gibbs chuckled as he pressed the elevator button. "Lucky guess."

"You know there's no such thing as a lucky guess, Gibbs!"

Gibbs chuckled as he entered the elevator, the others following him. He glanced at Kate, who was looking at him with a smile. It made his heart flip-flop for some reason.

"I know. Rule 37, remember?" It was actually more like a formality, given that he has had his fair share of luck in the past—next ten years.

"Well, come over, I have something for you. I think you'll like it. Well, not finding the bodies, mind you, because that's pretty horrible, but—"

"Abs, I'm on the way." Gibbs flipped the cell closed. As he waited for the elevator to stop its descent, Gibbs ruminated about how to stop O'Neill without jeopardizing his career or NCIS as a whole and the lives of his team, considering what would happen later on.

The last time, as the MCRT was canvassing the secluded site in the Great Falls National Park where Boone had tortured and killed his victims, Paula had been abducted by O'Neill as part of a nefarious plot masterminded by Boone to force the state to postpone his execution. The plan went awry, of course, with Boone being dragged away screaming and kicking.

Gibbs wanted to prevent the abduction as soon as possible. But how?

His thoughts were interrupted when the elevator bounced to a soft stop, and he stepped out, followed by the others.

"What have we got?" Gibbs spoke as he entered the Lab, passing McGee who was sitting at one of Abby's computers, and looked up at the screen near the back of the room, which depicted two screens, one a close-up, alternating satellite images. Kate stood next to him.

Abby grinned and turned to McGee. "Take it away, _Mick-Gee_!" she made a gesture where she extended the thumb and index fingers of both hands toward the probationary agent. When McGee blinked, looking between her and Gibbs, Abby deflated. "I mean, very Special Agent McGee."

"Probable site where the victims were tortured, killed, and perhaps buried," McGee clicked away on the keyboard. The two screens merged into one and zoomed further into what appeared to be in a heavily-wooded area, several blue circles appearing in rapid succession.

Gibbs turned to McGee. "Where?"

"Wilderness area at Great Falls National Park."

Gibbs nodded. Just what he thought. "Prepare a team," he ordered DiNozzo as he walked toward the door.

"Where you going, Boss?"

Gibbs turned around, fixing the Special Agent with an exasperated face. "Great Falls National Park, where else? C'mon, all of you are going." he turned around and walked toward the elevator, the others falling in step behind him.

He now had an idea of how he was going to stop O'Neill.

* * *

><p>The NCIS Emergency Response Van pulled to a stop on a paved dirt road right next to the towering trees that nearly obscured the sky, accompanied by tall grass and weed that lined the road. As DiNozzo and McGee pulled the back doors open and reached inside to retrieve their equipment, Gibbs pulled Paula to the side.<p>

"Paula, you stay with the team at all times," Gibbs instructed, his eyes peering at Paula's blue ones. "Do _not_ go anywhere by yourself. Is that understood?"

Her brow furrowing, Paula nodded slowly. "Understood." Gibbs let his lips curve up.

"Good, wouldn't want to handcuff you to myself," he half-joked as he turned to Kate. "That goes for you as well, Katie." Kate and Paula exchanged confused looks as they went into the forest, Gibbs following them.

Several moment passed in silence as the MCRT weaved through the trees and plants, pushing away any wayward branches and bushes that were in the way. "The site where the photos were taken is two hundred and sixty-five feet on a track of three hundred and ten degrees," McGee broke the silence. "We need to get through here."

"Okay," DiNozzo's voice was laced with slight sarcasm. "Remember what I told you about the poison ivy, all right?"

"Poison ivy will be the least of your worries if you don't get going," Gibbs growled, and DiNozzo nodded hastily.

"On my way, boss!" he scurried after McGee. Kate and Paula looked amused by this spectacle. The plants and bushes seemed to get thicker the deeper they went. Before he knew what he was doing, Gibbs grabbed Kate's hand.

"This is steep, be careful," he glanced at the brunette, who gave a small nod. He carefully descended the slope, keeping his hold on Kate the whole time. A moment later, they came to a clearing.

"Well, if this is the place, I can see why Boone picked it," DiNozzo commented as he looked around. "Off the beaten path, no hard surface to reflect sound. Those girls could scream their heads off and no one would hear." he nodded. "Yeah, this is the perfect spot."

"Perfect place to take your girls on your dates, huh?" Kate snarked, and Gibbs smirked.

DiNozzo laughed. "Katie, Katie, if I wanted to show my dates a great time, I'd—" he turned around and trailed off, raising his eyebrows as he looked at Gibbs and Kate.

"What, DiNozzo?" Kate snapped after the Special Agent stared at them for a moment. Gibbs realized that he was still holding hands with Kate and pulled his hand away. Apparently Kate realized this as she looked slightly abashed.

"Spread out!" Gibbs called out as he walked past DiNozzo, giving him the Glare. "Tape it off, let us know if you find anything. We'll go back when we're finished with everything." As he looked at the various trees and small boulders around the clearing, images of naked, blooded, tied-up women organized in various twisted positions flashed before his eyes in rapid succession. One of them looked disconcertingly like Kate and he closed his eyes, shaking the image away.

"Guys!" McGee's voice cut through Gibbs' thoughts and he turned to see the probationary agent leaning over something. "We're in the right place." Gibbs stepped over.

A wizened, brownish skull lay there, nearly blending into the leaves and twigs. Gibbs continued to look at it, his revulsion of Boone increasing by the second.

"Good job, McGee," Gibbs said. The said agent looked at him, surprised. Gibbs remembered that he had never praised the agent back then, at least not overtly. DiNozzo looked surprised as he was in the middle of wrapping the yellow police tape around one of the trees; the same went for Kate.

"_Gibbs!_"

Gibbs jolted, looking around. He felt mild panic flow through him as Paula was nowhere to be seen, and got out his Sig Sauer. Kate, DiNozzo, and McGee did the same, following him in the direction of Paula's voice.

Creeping toward the source of the voice, Gibbs exhaled a relieved sigh as he saw her standing there, holding her pistol out. Almost immediately, he could see why Paula had called out his name.

A half-naked female body was suspended at one of the trees, facing away from them, its arms held up by what appeared to be chains. Carved on its back was a heart, crusted in dried blood. Boone's calling card.

"She couldn't have been dead for more than a few days," McGee took a step closer to the body, holstering his weapon.

_O'Neill's handiwork_, Gibbs thought grimly.

Paula turned to Gibbs, lowering her gun. "You're not gonna believe it—"

"Boone's mark," he said simply.

"How is this possible?"

"Copycat killer."

"Guess we'll need everything now," DiNozzo spoke up, glancing at Gibbs.

"I'll go to the truck," Paula began walking away, only for Gibbs to grab her arm.

"Remember what I said: stay with the team," he whispered near her ear before turning to the rest of the team. "Continue canvassing the area, let me know if you find anything." He began to walk in the general direction of the truck, holding his pistol.

"Where are you going?" Kate called out.

Gibbs turned his head to her. "Canvassing," he said with a slight smirk before walking away. After checking over his shoulder to make sure he was out of the sight of the MCRT, he took a different path than the one he had initially took, creeping through the bushes, tall grass, and trees in the general direction of the road, taking extra care to remain out of sight. He double-checked to make sure his pistol was loaded.

As soon the road was in sight, the van in the distance, he remained crouched among the bushes and plants, squinting his eyes to see anything out of the ordinary—

Here it was.

Behind one of the trees near the road, nearly concealed by the low-hanging branches and the surrounding wildlife, was a dark blue 1985 BMW-5 car. From his vantage point, he couldn't see O'Neill anywhere, but knew he was nearby.

He continued to creep toward the road, scanning the car's surroundings for O'Neill—

Something caught his eye. The slight rustling of the bushes and tall grass would've easily been missed by anyone but the highly-trained eye of a Marine sniper, and Gibbs swiftly crossed the road, taking careful and measured steps toward O'Neill, who was holding what appeared to be binoculars and a shovel. The lawyer took position behind a tree right across the road from the van.

Taking a steadying breath, Gibbs took a step.

A twig snapped under his shoe. He swore under his breath.

O'Neill's head whirled around, his eyes widening at the sight of him. Before he could do anything else, Gibbs took aim and rapidly pressed the trigger. O'Neill convulsed as the bullets pierced his body, the shovel and binoculars slipping out of his hands.

As O'Neill crumpled to the ground, Gibbs let out a breath as he moved toward the lawyer. Paula's would-be abductor was dead. As Gibbs was about to reload his Sig Sauer, he heard footsteps behind him and instinctively whirled around, his weapon at the ready—

"Katie," he exhaled, lowering the pistol as the brunette approached, her pistol at the ready. "I thought I told you to stay with the others." How had he not heard or felt her presence?

Kate looked at O'Neill's body before turning to him. "Technically, you didn't," she said, her lips curling a bit as she holstered the pistol. "You only told us to canvass the area; I did my part."

Gibbs simply tilted his head as he holstered his own pistol as well.

"What's Boone's lawyer doing here?" she asked curiously as she looked at O'Neill's body. Gibbs shrugged.

"No idea. I have this feeling that we'll find out soon."

Kate nodded silently, pursing her lips in thought, her hazel eyes searching his.

"So, what are we going to do now?"

A smirk was dancing on Gibbs' lips. "We play the game."

* * *

><p>Gibbs walked into Interrogation, slamming the door with such a force that the room virtually shook. Boone looked up with raised eyebrows.<p>

"My lawyer was very unhappy—" he began saying, but Gibbs tossed the grimy scrapbook into the table in front of Boone.

"You wanted to see your scrapbook," Gibbs growled as he put his hands on the edges of the table, leaning toward Boone. "You got it. Now, where's my agent?"

"Huh...you found the bodies _and_ brought me my scrapbook. That's really nice of you, although I presume that someone else now got your agent," he leaned back on his chair. "Not what you were expecting, huh?" he shook his head. "Such a pity, since I'm the only one who can help you find him. You'll have to request a stay of my execution."

"The hell I'm doing that," Gibbs snarled, leaning closer to Boone. "Now...my agent. Out with it."

Boone chuckled incredulously. "Didn't you hear what I just said? You'll have to—"

Swearing under his breath, Gibbs reached into his pocket and pulled out his lighter. He picked the scrapbook and began flicking the lighter. The flame flickered on, only to dissipate, and he cursed under his breath again as he repeatedly flicked the lighter, to no avail.

"Hey, stop—" Boone's eyes were rounded. Gibbs ignored him, still trying to activate his lighter, even slamming it against his hand and blowing on it several times.

"Hey! Stop it! You don't know what—" Boone let out a sigh and shook his head. "You don't know what you're doing."

"Try me." Gibbs fiddled around with the lighter.

"Jethro, don't." Boone protested. "C'mon, I don't know where this agent of yours is. How can I?"

Gibbs ignored him, frantically flicking the lighter with his fingers, and even taking its top half off to blow on it before putting it back together.

"Gibbs, _please_! Just let me see them one last time, please," Boone pleaded, taking the scrapbook before Gibbs snatched it out of his hands, his lighter now ignited.

"I'm begging you!" Boone put his head onto the table, but Gibbs wasn't buying it one bit.

"Tell me where she is." Gibbs inched the lighter closer to the scrapbook.

Boone's shoulders began shaking as if he was crying. "We all know you can't destroy evidence," he slowly raised his head, a triumphant grin on his face. "Especially since I'm the only one who can find the actual killer. _Pathetic_, Jethro!" he laughed as he leaned back on his chair.

"Do you really think that I need that to see them? When they're all up there—" he pointed to his temple. "—anytime I want?" Gibbs wordlessly tossed the scrapbook on the table.

"Your agent is gonna suffer. That's a shame, she was a pretty thing. Brunettes were always a favorite. You know why?" Boone taunted. "Because I saw the way you look at her back in the garage."

He shrugged. "And besides, it's all your fault. You stopped me, you have to face the consequences."

Baring his teeth, Gibbs grabbed Boone by the front of his outfit, yanked him up from the chair, slammed him into the wall next to the one-way glass, got out his back-up revolver and pressed it to Boone's temple.

"I won't ask again. Tell me where she is." Gibbs pressed the gun harder.

"He's cutting her tongue out of her mouth right now," Boone laughed. "And you know the best part? She will remember that you failed her," Boone's grin widened. "And more importantly...when I'm gone, bodies will continue to pile up. How will you live with that?" Gibbs flicked back the hammer.

"By doing this." Gibbs prepared to squeeze the trigger.

"Shoot me," Boone challenged, glee dancing in his eyes. "Shoot me!"

Gibbs fired. The revolver clicked. It was empty.

Stepping back, Gibbs pocketed the revolver, a smirk lacing his face. Boone looked stunned. "You were _supposed_ to shoot me, you bastard!" he yelled.

Gibbs shrugged as he picked the scrapbook up. "If you think you're going to get me to ruin my own life by shooting you, think again." he shook his head, laughing. "And to think that you spent ten years planning this...wow. Who's the pathetic one now?"

"He's carving your name in her back right now," Boone spat. Gibbs cocked his head as he opened the door and two agents entered the room and grabbed hold of him. "Game's over. Back to Death Row." he left the room, barely hearing Boone call out after him.

"The Governor call yet?" Gibbs turned to see Boone in the hallway, now flanked by three agents. "They're not gonna kill me now, since I'm the only one who can identify the killer." His smirk then widened. "Do you think she screamed when he cut out her tongue, Jethro?"

Gibbs smirked to himself.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Why don't you ask her yourself?" Right that moment, Kate stepped out of the Observation Room, followed by Paula, DiNozzo, and McGee, who appeared around the corner.

Boone's smug expression instantly faded away, his eyes widening in horror and disbelief as he gaped at them.

"I'm afraid your lawyer will miss your execution," Gibbs continued.

"He's kind of dead," Kate added.

"Enjoy Hell," Gibbs finished, relishing on having the last word once again.

"No!" Boone's scream was music to Gibbs' ears. The prisoner began struggling against the agents who dragged him down the hall. "No! NO! NO!" his voice began fading away as he disappeared around the corner.

Gibbs and Kate exchanged glances, smiling.


	13. Past Discoveries

**A/N:** Thanks once again for the reviews. You should check out the video that Jadeite made based on this story and posted on YouTube. Wish I could post the link here, but search 'ncis blast from the past' there and you'll find it. It's utterly awesome, and I'm sure you'll love it. :)

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. I don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Silver War" (3.04), even although some of them have been altered to fit this story. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen:<strong>  
>Past Discoveries<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p><em>September 5, 2005<em>  
><em>7:45 AM<em>  
><em>NCIS Headquarters<em>  
><em>Washington, D.C.<em>

With his ever-present cup of coffee in hand, Gibbs stepped out of the elevator and headed toward the nearly deserted bullpen. It was seven forty-five in the morning, and he stopped right in his tracks as he looked at his desk. Or rather, someone sitting at his desk.

Ziva David gave him a small, tentative smile as she reclined at the desk. Despite his morning grumpiness, Gibbs gave her a ghost of a smile. The Israeli uncrossed her arms and got up from the desk, slinging her pack on her shoulder. Gibbs passed by her and sat down; the seat felt slightly warm.

Sipping his coffee, he glanced at her again.

"Morning," he said simply as he began powering up his main computer.

"Good morning to you too, Special Agent Gibbs."

As the computer began flickering on, he glanced at the Israeli, who stood in front of the desk, fidgeting with her hands slightly. He hid a smile; this was the Ziva David that he had known and worked with for over eight years, and if what his gut was telling him was correct, he would have that opportunity once again.

"What're you doing here, Ziva?"

"Um, I am not sure if Director Shepard told you, but I have been assigned to your team," Ziva replied. "As a liaison officer between NCIS and Mossad." She rummaged through her backpack, pulling out a thin green folder and giving it to him. "In fact, here are my orders, signed by Director Shepard."

Ah, so Eli David had arranged for her to be transferred over to NCIS, specifically his team, and Jenny had approved this. Just like the last time. He took the folder and took the paper out. Jenny's signature was scribbled at the bottom, and he wordlessly put the paper back in before tossing onto the desk. He gazed at her for several long moments, sipping his coffee, hiding a smirk as she began fidgeting slightly under his scrutiny.

Finally, he cracked a smile and extended his hand across the desk. She blinked at him a couple of times before tentatively grasping his hand and he firmly shook it.

"Welcome to the team, Ziva," he began typing away at the keyboard. When he looked up a moment later to see her still standing there, looking lost, he couldn't help his amusement as he rumbled out, "Need a desk?"

Ziva nodded, looking slightly sheepish. "Yes."

He jerked his head toward DiNozzo's desk. "Take DiNozzo's desk."

Ziva glanced at the desk before raising a curved eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

Gibbs shrugged. "He'll live."

"If he doesn't?" He could see faint amusement in Ziva's eyes, and he chuckled slightly.

"Then you keep it for yourself." Ziva shook her head as she stepped over to DiNozzo's desk, tossing her backpack next to the desk as if she already belonged there in the bullpen. Which, in a way, she had. Several moments passed in silence, punctuated by the soft clacking of the keyboard and the scurrying of random agents that entered the squad room.

"Man, I _friggin'_ hate Mondays," a certain, familiar voice grumbled. "Friggin' Fat Al's All-you-can-eat Burrito Shack...it should be renamed Fat Al's Bacteria Shack!"

"Oh, suck it up."

Gibbs looked up to see a grumpy and disheveled DiNozzo walk toward the squad room, with the ever-elegant Kate following him. The Special Agent scowled at her. "You try eating there, we'll see who'll be complaining!"

"Oh, unlike you, I wouldn't be caught dead eating there," Kate retorted. Gibbs couldn't help but smirk at this as he shared glances with Ziva. DiNozzo laughed dryly as he continued to shave his chin with his electric razor. "I'll let you know, Katie, that—"

"Don't call me that!"

"Oh, you didn't have a problem with me calling you that the last time, Katie," DiNozzo retorted, turning his head toward the bullpen. He stopped right in his track, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Gibbs sitting there.

Gibbs swore Kate's eyes lit up upon seeing him.

"Oh, uh, morning boss!" he stammered slightly as he hastened toward his desk, only to jump out of his skin upon seeing Ziva sitting there. Gibbs shook his head, a smirk lacing his lips, as Kate and Ziva chuckled at the spectacle.

"Getting jumpy, DiNozzo?" Kate teased as she removed her jacket and bag before sitting at her desk. For some reason, Gibbs' eyes lingered on her for a second too long before he blinked and looked away, mentally slapping himself. DiNozzo gave her a grimace before turning to Ziva.

"What are you doing at my desk?"

Ziva smirked as she leaned back on the chair and laced her hands. "He told me to take this desk."

"_What?_" DiNozzo turned to Gibbs, his eyes widening. "Boss, um, what's she talking about? She isn't really taking over my desk...is _she_?"

Gibbs' reply was to level his penetrating gaze on DiNozzo. "What do ya think, DiNozzo?"

"Aw, seems you're out a desk," Kate spoke up in a faux-sympathetic tone, cocking her head. "But don't worry, you can get one from Fat Al's All-you-can-eat Burrito Shack." DiNozzo looked less than amused.

"Very funny," he deadpanned. Kate gave him a cheeky grin.

"You might want to do something about your hair," Ziva sat up, pointing at DiNozzo's disheveled hair. "It is sticking up like a...pork-u-swine?" She shook her head as she gesticulated. "Wrong word. Like a pork-u-pig? The little animal with the little spikes, yes?" Gibbs couldn't help but smile at this.

"Porcupine," McGee supplied as he entered the bullpen, raising an eyebrow at DiNozzo's hair. He was holding a paper cup holder, full of four coffee cups, in his hands.

"Don't say it, McPorcupine," DiNozzo warned, pointing a finger at him.

"Oh yes! Porcupine! Thank you, Special Agent McGee," Ziva grinned as she took a cup. The probationary agent smiled and nodded his head as he offered Kate a cup before going over to his desk.

"Say...anyone have a key for this?" Ziva inquired, pointing toward a drawer at the desk.

"I do. It's my desk, after all," DiNozzo said through gritted teeth. Ziva simply smiled and held out her hand.

"Don't think so."

Ziva raised her eyebrows. "Is that how you greet new members in the team?" DiNozzo stared at her, comprehension finally dawning on his face. "You're part of our team?"

"Yeah," Gibbs spoke up, catching everyone's attention. "Ziva here just joined this team."

"Welcome to the team, Ziva," Kate smiled, holding out a hand, and McGee did the same. Ziva returned the handshake. "Thank you. I look forward to being a member of the team."

"Wish I could say the same," DiNozzo muttered.

Gibbs gave him the Glare. "She'll use your desk for the time being. Until then, you sit your ass on the floor!" he remembered Ellie Bishop's tendency to sit on the floor whenever she worked, and his chest constricted slightly.

"Yes, boss," DiNozzo murmured as he grabbed a water bottle, a green mug, and a toothbrush before getting down on the floor next to his desk.

"I must say, this isn't the first time I've looked down on you," Kate remarked as she looked at DiNozzo.

"Cute, really cute," DiNozzo sneered, removing his toothbrush from his mouth and swirling it around in his cup. He glanced up at Ziva. "Now that you're all settled in at my desk, I suppose you want something to read," he said sarcastically.

"Like this?" Ziva held up what appeared to be a magazine with the words 'G.S.M.' printed across the cover in large, bold red typeface, coupled with three scantily-clad women in provocative poses. DiNozzo's eyes widened while Kate raised her eyebrows, a smirk on her lips.

"How did you get in my desk?"

"A good agent never misses and tell," Ziva flipped the magazine open.

"'Kiss and tell.'"

Ziva blinked. "Pardon me?"

"It's 'kiss and tell', David," DiNozzo reiterated through slightly-gritted teeth. Ziva scoffed.

"Whatever. This magazine is certainly interesting," she glanced at the others. "Especially the article on page fifty-seven. In my experience, it works every time."

DiNozzo stared at her. "I...always thought it was urban legend." Right at that moment, Gibbs' cell began to rang.

"It isn't." He ignored the looks the others gave him as he placed the cell on his ear. "Yeah. Gibbs."

"I'd like to see you in MTAC, Jethro."

Gibbs nodded curtly as he hung up, got to his feet, and walked out of the bullpen. "Sit at my desk, DiNozzo, you'll find that I _never_ miss and tell," he said, not seeing DiNozzo gulp and the others chuckle.

* * *

><p>Entering the MTAC, Gibbs saw Jenny sitting in the distance, and headed there. She looked up from the report on her lap, quirking an eyebrow, as he plopped on the seat next to hers.<p>

"Awfully perky this morning, aren't we?" she removed her glasses.

Gibbs couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "It's the coffee," he said, holding the cup up. "What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?" He had this feeling he knew what she was going to say next.

Jenny intertwined her hands together. "Well, it's a personnel issue. You see, I—"

"—appointed Ziva David to my team, I know."

Jenny raised her eyebrows. "Why am I not surprised that you already know this?"

Gibbs shrugged. "News travel fast."

Jenny chuckled. "I take it Ziva arrived a few days early," she took a sip of her coffee. "But yes, you're correct. I arranged for her to join your team, based on your enthusiastic recommendation."

Gibbs snorted at the last part. "Let's not overstate my enthusiasm here." Jenny fixed him with an inquisitive gaze, and Gibbs felt himself shift in his seat. "May I inquire as to why you wanted her to be on your team?"

Gibbs shrugged once again. "She killed Ari, for one thing." Jenny snorted.

"Of course. She is one of the finest agents I ever worked with in Europe. You're lucky to have her."

He managed to contain himself from voicing his enthusiastic agreement on that. "So I'm told." He drained the rest of his coffee.

She cocked her head at him. "Why do I get this feeling that there's _something_ else that you're not telling me?" His gut involuntarily clenched at how close she had hit the mark. There wasn't merely something he wasn't telling her; there was a lot he wasn't telling her.

"You always get that feeling that I'm not telling you something."

"That's because you don't!" Jenny retorted, her lips twitching.

"There's a reason for that."

"There's always a reason," she said pointedly.

Gibbs chuckled. "Will that be all, Madam Director?"

Jenny narrowed her eyes. "Yes...for now." she paused for a moment. "I want her to learn from the best, and to be welcomed and accepted in your team. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," he quipped as he got up from his seat and walked toward the exit. Walking across the mezzanine and down the stairs, he could hear DiNozzo say, "—wouldn't be surprised if the Boss himself had new tastes for Oriental women." Kate and Ziva looked downright unamused. Gibbs chucked the cup hard at DiNozzo's head, making him flinch.

"_Ow!_ S-sorry, boss!" DiNozzo backtracked as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Not as sorry as you're gonna be if you don't make Ziva feel welcome in the team," Gibbs descended the stairs and strode onto the bullpen. Ziva and DiNozzo blinked, the former looking pleased and the latter confused. He shared a glance with Kate as he reached his desk and sat down on it.

McGee hung up his phone, looking over at Gibbs. "Boss, we have a situation at—"

"—the Smithsonian Institution." McGee looked surprised, the others raising their eyebrows. Gibbs' lips quirked as he stood up from the desk, grabbing his overcoat. "A murder. A Marine dressed up as a Civil War soldier found in an iron sarcophagus. Gear up!" He knew exactly who was the killer, of course.

As Kate, DiNozzo, and McGee got ready, Gibbs turned to Ziva. "Welcome to your first case. You have your weapons?" When the Israeli nodded, he continued, "Including the knife concealed at your waist?" Ziva's eyes widened in surprise, and he held back a chuckle as he walked toward the elevator, tossing the keys at DiNozzo.

"DiNozzo, gas up the truck!"

"Aw, come on. Why do I—"

_Whap!_

"Will do, boss!" DiNozzo muttered, wincing at the stinging sensation at the back of his head, ignoring the chuckles from the others.

"Interested in the Civil War, Katie?" Gibbs asked as he stood next to Kate in the elevator. The brunette raised an eyebrow as she glanced up at him.

"More or less, given that I minored in History in university. How about you, Gibbs?"

Gibbs' lips curled up at this. "Ah...there were Marines in the Civil War," he shrugged.

"Which side?" her eyes were twinkling in amusement. Gibbs' half-smile widened. "Whatever side that can solve this case the fastest." Kate snorted.

"Thought you would've preferred to take things slow," she teased.

"Depends on which mood I'm in," he bantered, and she turned a little red. Ziva and DiNozzo exchanged glances.

* * *

><p>"According to his dog tags, this young man is Warren Sorrow, USMC," Ducky was saying as he pored over the emaciated and wizened corpse of the Staff Sergeant who served as a security guard in the Marine Corps.<p>

"How long's he been in there, Doc?" Gibbs asked as he snapped several pictures of the body lying in the rusted casket. Ducky turned to him.

"Well, he is remarkably well-preserved. Could be months or even years."

_Or days_, Gibbs thought as he snapped away on the camera.

"We will know more when we get him home. You know, in the seventies, grave robbers raided a Southern colonel's cast-iron casket," Ducky continued as he paced alongside the casket. "They took his weapons, his jewelry, and for some strange reason—"

"His head?"

Ducky blinked and turned to him. "Yes, his head. This poor man fought for his cause – not that it was worth fighting for, in retrospect – in the Civil War, only to lose his head over a century later. Why, when the authorities found the century-old decomposing corpse, they assumed he was recently decapitated."

The medical examiner then chuckled. "And they opened a murder investigation. Imagine that."

"Well, that's local cops for you," Gibbs said as he moved to the other side of the casket and snapped away once more. "He's still got his head, though. I wanna know how he died." If only he could tell Ducky about that...it would've saved time and effort, and spared him the nasty surprise. It seemed that, like him (and McGee, actually), Ducky had a penchant for attracting women who turned out to be _femme fatales_ in the end.

"I can help with that." Gibbs raised his head to see a middle-aged blonde, clad in a white lab coat, approach the casket. Dr. Elaine Burns, the forensic anthropologist who turned out to be Sorrow's killer. He felt his jaw clench, and his gut constrict, as he looked at the woman who peered at the corpse.

"Dr. Mallard," Dr. Burns smiled, her eyes brightening. "Well, how nice to see you again."

Ducky returned the smile, looking like he did not recognize her. "Yes, it is. How are you?"

"Dr. Elaine Burns," she extended a hand across the casket. "We met in Hawaii nearly eighteen years ago." Ducky, still wearing the gloves and having recently handled the corpse, did not – or was unable to – shake it. "The conference on identifying POW remains in Vietnam," she pressed on.

Ducky nodded, looking like realization dawned on him, although Gibbs knew better. "Yes, of course! How wonderful to see you again." Dr. Burns smiled as she leaned toward Ducky. "I still have that puka shell necklace you gave me."

"Qu-quite the...keepsake, aren't they?" Ducky stuttered slightly, a nervous smile on his face. Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"Do you have information on how this man died, Doctor?" he interjected, looking pointedly at Dr. Burns, who looked confused before nodding. "Oh yes, we took the liberty of imaging the corpse to make sure we were dealing with an actual homicide and not some sick hoax," she explained as she moved to a nearby computer monitor, which depicted a CGI facial reconstruction of Sorrow's face.

Gibbs gave Ducky a look, and the medical examiner shrugged, a confused expression still on his face. He then turned to Dr. Burns.

"You disturbed my crime scene?"

Dr. Burns turned to Gibbs with what appeared to be a reassuring smile. "As a forensic anthropologist, I can assure you my examination was strictly non-invasive." She clicked on the keyboard, and the image turned into what appeared to be thermal imaging. After several seconds, a bright red spot appeared near the nasal region. "There. I've seen several images like this in the past, but you can't be certain until you get it out."

"A musket ball, I presume?" Gibbs spoke up, and Dr. Burns turned to him, eyebrows raised.

"You would be correct. It is, indeed, a musket ball."

Gibbs nodded before leaving the lab.

"I do not think this is what Gibbs had in mind when he sent us here." Gibbs could hear Ziva's voice as he approached the storage room.

"That's DiNozzo for you," Kate spoke up.

DiNozzo chuckled. "Do you have any idea how many people get killed by bears in America every year?"

_Whap!_

"Do you have any idea how many agents get killed for not doing their jobs?" Gibbs growled as DiNozzo stepped away from the large sculpture of a polar bear that he had been fooling around with. McGee looked sheepish as he lowered his camera, while Kate and Ziva stifled their giggles.

Ignoring DiNozzo's mumbled apology, Gibbs turned to the rest of the team. "What do we got?"

"Casket was uncovered by a housing project near the Bull Run battlefield in Manassas," Kate replied.

"We got the name and address of the construction company," DiNozzo interjected. "Scheduled an interview and soil test for tomorrow."

"The only thing removed from the casket was a cell phone, damaged and non-operational," McGee said, holding up an evidence bag containing said cell. "I've got the prints of the lab workers to run against any we find in or around the body and tomb. Dr. Burns was wearing surgical gloves when she picked this up."

_Big surprise there_, Gibbs thought. "Good work. Ziva?" he turned to Ziva, who blinked.

"Um...I am wondering why there is a nine-millimeter hole in my hat." she reached up and put her finger through the cap's visor, wiggling it as if to prove her point.

Kate smirked. "You can thank DiNozzo for that." DiNozzo shot her a dirty look.

"Yeah, he's a great shot," Gibbs added dryly. "I'll escort the casket back with Ducky, we'll meet in the squad room." He gave Kate one last glance before turning and walking away.

"Agent Gibbs?" Ziva called out, and Gibbs turned around. "I, um, would like to know if I could...drive the truck back to base." He hid a smirk at the hopeful expression on Ziva's face, remembering her great driving skills. A thought came to his mind.

"Sure thing," he said with a shrug. Ziva beamed.

"Katie!" he called out and the brunette looked over at him. "You're coming with me." Kate smiled at a confused DiNozzo and McGee as she followed him out of the room.

* * *

><p>"Remind me never to let you behind the wheels ever again," DiNozzo grumbled, looking slightly green as he trudged toward the bullpen. McGee looked queasy as well.<p>

Ziva rolled her eyes. "I always drive fast! It is how I drive, especially in Israel, where you have to avoid possible IEDs and ambushes."

"Newsflash, David: we're not in Israel," DiNozzo snarked sarcastically. "We're in America, the land of the free and brave."

Ziva narrowed her eyes at him. "We are also free and brave over there," she pointed out.

"Yeah, especially if you're Palestinian," DiNozzo muttered.

"And terrorists." DiNozzo gave a jolt as he looked over to see Gibbs and Kate sitting at their respective desks. "How did you get here before us?"

"Gibbs has his ways," Kate said with a lingering glance at Gibbs before turning her head to the Special Agent. "What happened to you?"

"He puked in the truck," McGee replied helpfully, and DiNozzo slowly turned his head to glare at the probationary agent.

"Courtesy of my driving," Ziva said cheekily as she moved toward DiNozzo's desk – only for him to beat her to the punch, sliding into his desk. He smirked smugly and the Israeli rolled her eyes.

Kate grinned. "I like you already."

"Me too," DiNozzo groaned, reclining in his chair. "Only if she'd ease up on her crazy, homicidal driving..._a lot_." Ziva rolled her eyes.

Kate leaned forward in her desk, a smirk on her face. "What's the matter, DiQueasy? Can't handle a little driving?"

DiNozzo scowled at the play on his name. "Not if it sends you careening right through the windshield! And quit doing that."

"Quit doing what?" Kate blinked innocently. DiNozzo narrowed his eyes. "You know what I mean, Kat-Kat!"

Kate scowled at the nickname, but then she smirked condescendingly. "So you can dish it out but you can't take it?"

"That's DiNozzo for you," Gibbs cut in. "Everyone get to work."

"Gibbs," Ziva said, standing at his desk. "Where am I going to sit at?" Gibbs thought about it for a moment before standing up and walking over to the empty cubicle at the end of the bullpen, next to McGee's desk. He grabbed a chair and brought it over to his desk, placing it right next to it. "Here."

Ziva raised her eyebrows, a hint of a smile on her face. "Thank you."

Turning to his team, Gibbs looked at McGee. "I want you to run prints through AFIS and work with Abby to find out what was on the cell phone we found in the casket." He looked over at DiNozzo, holding out a folder. "You're on the paper trail. I want to know everything about him." As DiNozzo got up and walked over, Gibbs turned to Kate next, giving her his lopsided smile. "I want you to build a profile on his life before his disappearance." he turned to the Israeli. "As for you...you'll be helping Kate out."

At the chorus of "Yes, boss", "Will do", and "on it", Gibbs left the bullpen.

"Oh, she's more than nice." Gibbs could hear Ducky's voice as he stepped off the elevator, heading toward Autopsy. "But how do you tell a woman that you have absolutely no mental recollection of her whatsoever?"

"You tell her straight up," he walked into the room. Ducky and his assistant, Jimmy Palmer, turned around and looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"But won't her feelings get hurt, Jethro?"

"Ah, if she understands, she'll understand," Gibbs said vaguely as he walked over to the desk where Sorrow's remains lay. "What have you got for me, Duck?"

"Well, you are in luck, Jethro, considering that I finished the autopsy not a few minutes ago," Ducky said as he moved to the side of the slab, looking at Sorrow. "I know how our Staff Sergeant died."

"I'm guessing it wasn't a musket ball."

Ducky shook his head as he walked over to several X-ray films displayed on the adjacent wall. "No. But one could be forgiven for assuming at first, given that a projectile of such size and miss would produce almost instant death. But pre-Civil War muskets were notoriously unreliable, and lost most of their velocity over the first hundred meters."

He then pointed at one of the films, circling around Sorrow's right side of the face. "As you can see, our Sergeant was grievously wounded by a musket ball, but his injury was not fatal."

"How'd he die?"

"His lung tissue was coated with an extremely fine film of rust particles." Ducky began shaking his head as he walked back to the slab. "One can only imagine how long he clawed at the iron sides of the casket...trying to escape before he suffocated." He lifted the corpse's hand and turned it slightly to show the fingertips, which were shredded.

"Hell of a way to go," Gibbs remarked. Ducky looked at him.

"Indeed."

"Well, good job, Duck," Gibbs said as he walked away before pausing and turning around. "Oh and sometimes some women aren't...what they seem." he gave a nod at Ducky's confused expression before leaving the room.


	14. Burying the Past

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews! I enjoy reading them. I notice this story and _Back To The Beginning_ by Leonora Chris are kind of similar in that they involve "time travel" of some sort. That story looks interesting, though. With that said, I edited the first chapter among with some formatting. Here's the update, hope you like.

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. I don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Mind Games" (3.03), even although some of them have been altered to fit this story. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen:<strong>  
>Burying the Past<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>"You made me crawl through a dump truck full of dirt!"<p>

Gibbs looked up from the detailed profile report of Warren Sorrow, which Kate and Ziva had painstakingly complied yesterday, to see a smirking DiNozzo enter the bullpen, followed by a glaring Ziva, who was covered in dirt and grime from head to toe. He clenched his jaw, willing himself to suppress his gag reflex as the stench wafted across his nose.

Apparently, DiNozzo had somehow forced Ziva into performing the dirty deed at the crime scene. To this day, Gibbs still wondered how the Special Agent had managed to make the stubborn Israeli do it.

"There could've been valuable evidence," DiNozzo pointed out, looking like he was enjoying himself far too much.

Ziva narrowed her eyes. "There was no evidence!" she snapped, throwing her hands up.

DiNozzo's grin widened as he shrugged off his pack and tossed it behind his desk, twirling his cap."Yeah, thanks to you, we now know that." The Special Agent either didn't see or ignored Ziva's darkening glare, and Gibbs could see a certain deadly glint in her eyes and her hand drift toward her waist. "C'mon, _Zee-vah_, think of it as doing your patriotic duty. You did that back home, right?"

"Ziva, take a shower," Gibbs interrupted when Ziva looked like she was about to pounce on DiNozzo.

Ziva turned to him with rounded eyes. "Really? DiNozzo here said they were for biological or chemical emergencies only," she said with a glance at the smirking Special Agent.

"Being with DiNozzo on the field counts as a biological or chemical emergency," Kate piped up. Gibbs and Ziva let out a snort of laughter. DiNozzo looked decidedly unamused.

"Ha-ha, very funny, Kat-Kat," he mocked as he sat down at the desk. "But at least, I didn't have to go through crap."

Kate scowled at his use of her nickname. "That's because you're full of it, DiNozzo!" she retorted.

"Oh, you wound me, milady," DiNozzo put his hand over his heart, a faux-pained expression on his face. "How am I to recover from this devastating retort?"

"By treating Ziva better," Gibbs replied. "Speaking of which, what'd I say about making her feel welcomed?" DiNozzo all but flailed under the all-powerful Glare. When he was about to reply, Gibbs beat him to the punch. "Pull that crap again, I'll make you crawl through so much dirt that you'll crap right through your mouth!"

DiNozzo looked chastened. "Got it, boss."

"Better be careful next time," Kate said with a giggle. "Wouldn't want him to let Ziva pull rank over you the next time."

Gibbs chuckled. "Good idea, Katie." DiNozzo was staring at him with widened eyes.

"Y-you've gotta to be kidding me..."

"Do I kid around, DiNozzo?"

"Do that means I can get him to do whatever I want him to do?" Ziva's eyes practically pleaded for him to say yes.

Gibbs smirked. "As long you don't kill him." DiNozzo's eyes widened further.

Ziva's eyes gleamed. "Can I still maim him?"

"Don't let me catch you." Ziva looked over at DiNozzo, her lips slowly turning into a predatory smile that could reduce even the most hardened criminals to sobbing messes curled into fetal positions.

"Does that go for me as well?" Gibbs crumbled at Kate's puppy-eye look. When he nodded, Kate's lips curled into a grin that looked disconcertingly like Ziva's. DiNozzo now looked outright horrified, looking between the two females.

"C'mon, boss...you surely aren't going to let them do that...are you?" he whimpered, pulling his collar.

"You find anything?" Gibbs completely sidestepped the question, and DiNozzo grimaced for a moment before sighing and straightening up.

"Nothing, boss. The building site was very clean. Figuratively speaking, of course," he ignored Ziva's scoff. "We taped off the area, but we're not gonna find anything."

"Because you didn't try hard enough?" Kate said, leaning forward at her desk.

"Katie, I'll let you know that I didn't become Special Agent by—" DiNozzo began to say, but was cut off.

"DiNozzo..." Gibbs growled warningly.

DiNozzo swallowed once again."As I was saying, we looked all over everything, but we didn't find anything out of the ordinary. Whoever killed the Sergeant must've gone a pretty meticulous job."

Gibbs nodded. "Good work, DiNo—"

"Gibbs! Gibbs!" An overexcited Abby bounced into the bullpen, her pigtails flying, a wide grin on her pale face. McGee was right behind her. "We did it—_Ew!_ What's _that_ smell?" she made a face, and DiNozzo cracked a grin despite himself.

"Oh, good question," he smirked knowingly as he looked at Ziva, who shot him a dirty glare.

"You did what, Abs?" Gibbs prompted, ignoring DiNozzo.

"Those random numbers weren't random after all, boss," McGee replied on Abby's behalf, looking pleased.

"Sergeant Sorrow was leaving us a text message...from the grave," Abby spoke in turn.

Gibbs nodded. "Do show."

"Gladly!" Abby grinned as she produced a remote and powered up the plasma screen. McGee promptly went to work setting up a text converter program on his computer, attached Sorrow's repaired cell to his monitor and pressed a key that transmitted his screen to the plasma. Soon, a bunch of supposedly random numbers arranged in six rows by four columns was displayed on the screen for all to see.

"When you put it through the phone's text converter..." With a click from Abby's remote, the numbers rapidly converted into barely-legible letters and numbers. "You get this." Another click, and the letters rearranged once again, into slightly more coherent sentences.

"Only got half. Oxbow not on his side," McGee read off the screen. "Kearns, don't let him get safety deposit box."

"That's it?" Kate rolled her eyes at DiNozzo's question.

"I'm sure the guy had plenty of time to type out more detailed words with correct spelling and grammar while he was suffocating on his final breaths."

"Did you expect a soliloquy?" Ziva piped in, rolling her eyes as well. DiNozzo looked at the two women with narrowed eyes.

"We ran his social through the banking system," Abby said. "Staff Sergeant Sorrow has a safety deposit box, paid for five years, at the North Virginia Savings and Trust. Gibbs nodded silently, remembering that Kearns had followed McGee and Ziva to the bank and ambushed them, getting away with the map they had retrieved from the safe deposit box.

He glanced at the probationary agent. "I presume you already got a warrant, McGee?"

McGee nodded. "Yes, I already called it in, boss." Gibbs turned to DiNozzo. "Check Oxbow and Kearns."

"On it," DiNozzo walked over to his desk. Gibbs turned to the rest of the team, thinking about what to do next. He took in Ziva's appearance and realized something. "Take a shower, we'll wait for you."

Ziva looked at him, a smile slowly coming across her face. "You sure?"

Gibbs cocked his head. "Unless you want to wait until you get home...?"

Ziva shook her head hastily. "On my way," she turned around and began walking away, only to turn around and look at him questioningly.

"Down the hall from Abby's Lab. First floor," Gibbs supplied. She beamed and nodded before walking away. He felt someone look at him, and turned to see Kate gazing at him thoughtfully, a smile lacing her face. He felt something stir in his gut, and raised his shoulders in a slight shrug before returning to his report.

* * *

><p>Walking across the crowded plaza toward the North Virginia Savings and Trust, Kate and Ziva in tow, Gibbs noted the plaza in front of the bank was fairly teeming with people going about their usual businesses, with some standing around and some sitting in several benches in front of the massive fountain.<p>

He remembered that, thanks to an accomplice aiming a sub-machine gun from a nearby van, Judd Kearns had coerced McGee and Ziva into giving them the map. The way he figured it out, they would try to apprehend Kearns – who would undoubtedly be waiting for them at the bank – somewhere away from the gun-toting accomplice. This would hopefully reduce or prevent needless casualties.

"Ziva?" He turned at Kate's curious voice, and noticed Ziva look all over the plaza, a pensive expression on her face. Gibbs immediately recognized it: this was Ziva's well-honed Mossad instincts kicking in, and like his gut feeling, it was nearly always right. This meant Kearns and his accomplice were somewhere in the vicinity.

"What's wrong?" Ziva snapped back to reality upon hearing of Kate's question and shook her head, pasting on a smile. "Nothing. I am still getting used to America, I suppose." Kate looked like she didn't believe her but nodded nevertheless. Gibbs looked at the Israeli for a moment before turning around and entering the bank.

"So, what's the plan?" Kate asked.

"We wait for him to appear, and when he does, we seize him," Gibbs replied as he made his way toward one of the counters.

"Do you think he will show up?" Ziva inquired.

Gibbs turned to her, a smirk on his lips."I _know_ he will show." Ziva raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"Hi! How can I help you?" a curly-haired secretary clad in a pink suit greeted with a wide smile. Her name, Sally Smith, was engraved on her name badge. Gibbs flashed his NCIS badge before flipping the wallet over to show his identification card.

"We're from NCIS, and we'd like to inquire about a safety deposit box maintained by one of your clients, a Staff Sergeant named Warren Sorrow. Do you know anything about that?"

Sally peered at the badge and ID for a moment before nodding. "I believe so. Let me check." She tapped away at the keyboard before nodding. "We do have Warren Sorrow in our records and that he does, in fact, maintain a safety deposit box. Do you want me to go get it?"

Gibbs nodded. "Please do, ma'am."

"Call me Sally," she gave him a slightly flirtatious smile before getting up. "Follow me."

Gibbs couldn't help but smirk slightly as he followed her, noting the way she swayed her hips slightly. A glance at Kate caused his smirk to widen. She was looking at the secretary through narrowed eyes. As if sensing him, she blinked and looked up at him. He raised an eyebrow. She blushed a bit and shook her head, a small smile on her lips.

They went through an encrypted door adjacent to the counter and passed through several hallways before reaching a small room, an inspection room of sort. "Wait here. I will go get it." She fluttered her eyelashes before turning and heading to a nearby safe room.

Gibbs leaned toward Kate. "Don't be jealous, Katie," he said with a smirk.

"Who said I was jealous?" Kate retorted with a glare, although the slight redness of her cheeks gave her away.

Gibbs shrugged. "She's not my type." He could see her shoulders relax a little.

"Good."

"I understand Staff Sergeant Sorrow has been missing," Sally said as she re-entered the room, carrying a small, dark metal box and placing it on the table there. At Gibbs' inquisitive look, she continued. "His brother. He's inquired several times about the safety deposit box."

Ziva furrowed her brow. "Why?"

"He felt if something had happened to the Staff Sergeant, he would have wanted him to have it," Sally replied, looking between Gibbs, Kate, and Ziva.

"Something as in...?" Gibbs prompted.

"Death, for instance, but without a death certificate and a court order, we have to maintain the contents until the lease runs out, as per our policy." she paused for a beat. "Is Staff Sergeant Sorrow missing?"

"Not anymore," Gibbs replied. Sally remained silent, realization dawning upon her.

"Can we open the box now?" Gibbs had to hide his smile at the slight sharpness in Kate's tone. Sally blinked a couple of times at the brunette.

"Um, I'll...be outside if you need me." She gave them an awkward wave as she left the room and closed the door behind her.

"Anyone wanna give me a hand with this?" Gibbs said lightly as he took the box, turned it around, and opened it up.

Lying in the box was a gnarled hand grasping an ancient, rolled map. Adorned on its right ring finger was a nineteenth-century French decorative ring, worn by Southern gentlemen to illustrate their wealth and status. Kate and Ziva had stunned faces as they exchanged glances and then looked up at Gibbs.

"No pun intended," he said dryly as he reached inside and carefully removed the hand. He gently extracted the map and gave it to Kate, who unrolled it. It was a drawing of a forked road crossing a stream and a Confederate flag drawn on the corner, along with the words 'Oxbow' and 'ICF' scribbled under it. "Photograph it," he instructed and she nodded.

"I do not think it would be necessary," Ziva spoke up. "I have a—"

"—photographic memory," Gibbs filled in for her. "You're not the only one has done any profiling."

Kate reached into her pack and pulled out a camera. "It's better to do this, just in case." She snapped a couple of photos. Ziva nodded as she carefully placed the hand into the evidence bag, which Gibbs promptly sealed.

"You know," Ziva began saying as she pulled out a long, plastic cylindrical container out of the pack. "This reminds me of something."

Gibbs looked at her. "Mossad?"

Ziva shook her head. "No, the Harry Potter novel." At Gibbs' blank stare, she continued. "Um, you know, Harry Potter. A magical lizard—"

"Wizard," Kate corrected, looking amused.

"Wizard," Ziva nodded. "Thank you, Kate. Harry Potter is a wizard who, um, was orphaned and who has to face off against a dark lord...uh, never mind. Not that I read it or anything," she stuttered slightly, blushing in embarrassment. Gibbs nodded slowly, his lips twitching slightly.

"You're lucky DiNozzo wasn't here," Kate said as she carefully rolled the map and placed it into the container.

"Yeah, I'd hate to have to kill him," Gibbs commented.

"Because he would blab too much?" Ziva inquired as she zipped the pack up and slung it on her shoulder. Kate shook her head.

"No, because Gibbs told him to treat you nice."

"Katie, I told him to make her feel welcome," Gibbs chided lightly. "There's a difference."

Kate snorted. "Same difference."

After thanking Sally, they walked toward the exit. Gibbs could see a man standing under the archway, near the doors, reading – or more likely pretending to – something. He was wearing a gray jacket over what appeared to be a pink button shirt. Although his blue cap and sunglasses concealed most of his face, he looked familiar.

"Has he appeared?" Kate asked. "I don't think you said anything about what he looks like."

"He's here," Gibbs said, looking straight ahead. Kate and Ziva looked surprised.

"Follow my lead," he pushed through the doors and walked toward the plaza. As soon as he passed the man, however, Gibbs suddenly grabbed him by the jacket, yanked him away from the wall, and tossed him toward the doors. The man let out a startled yell as he tumbled to the ground, the papers flying out of his hands. It was an atlas.

"What the hell—" the man sputtered as he tried to get up. Gibbs pulled his Sig on him. The two women did the same. "Judd Kearns? You're coming with us, we have questions for you," Gibbs said.

Kearns gaped at him in shock, his sunglasses slipping down slightly, as Ziva pulled him to his feet. "I don't know what—"

"The word Oxbow sounds familiar to ya?" When Kearns' eyes widened, Gibbs smirked. "Yeah, we know about you and your little club." He turned to Ziva. "Check if there's any van nearby. If there is, that's the accomplice, nail him."

Ziva nodded as she crept toward the corner of the archway, her pistol at the ready.

* * *

><p>"Look, I'm telling you, I don't know anything! Why would I ask for this guy's deposit box? Hell, I wasn't at the bank!" Judd Kearns protested, throwing his hands up as he sat in Interrogation. Gibbs flipped the folder open, picked out a document, and tossed it down on the table in front of Kearns.<p>

It was a print-out of the bank's camera footage, a close shot depicting Kearns standing at the bank counter.

"Looks like you were," Gibbs leveled a penetrating stare at Kearns, who looked slightly unnerved.

"Fine, I went there, ok? But that doesn't mean I asked for the man's box!"

"Secretary said you asked about it, several times," Gibbs picked up another paper and scanned over it. "Three times last week, once last Saturday, and twice yesterday, and that's only naming a few."

Kearns let out a sigh as he leaned back in his chair. "The secretary probably mistook—"

"She clearly remembered you, given that you even threatened her a couple of times."

Kearns' eyes widened and he held out his hands. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. I did not threaten her, I only wanted to know about the safe—" he closed his eyes, realizing his slip-up. Gibbs leaned forward, putting his hands together.

"You wanted to know about...?" Gibbs prompted, his steely gaze never leaving Kearns'.

Kearns sighed, his shoulders drooping. "I was only curious about the safe deposit, ok? There's nothing wrong with that. Sorrow was my brother—"

"He wasn't," Gibbs cut in, retrieving another paper. "He only knew you because you were in the same club as him. Yeah, like I said, we know all about your club." he plopped said paper on the table. It was a membership list. Kearns, along with Sorrow's names were on it; the only thing missing was the leader's name. "Only problem is, who was responsible for the Staff Sergeant's murder?"

Kearns looked flabbergasted at this revelation. "Sorrow's dead?" he sputtered, his eyes widening in shock. Gibbs resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Cut the act, Kearns, it's not gonna help you."

"I'm not acting or anything, I swear!" Kearns protested, gesticulating wildly. "I didn't know about Sorrow's death or anything like that! You can't pin that on me!" he then let out a sigh. "I-I didn't sign up for this. She told me to shadow you guys and get the map—"

"She?"

Kearns closed his eyes again for a moment. "I want a deal," he said, reopening his eyes. To be honest, Gibbs had expected him to plead the Fifth. Even he could be surprised sometimes.

"Give us the name or no deal," Gibbs countered. After several, long moments, Kearns sighed again.

"Look, I didn't do anything. I wouldn't! Sorrow was like a brother to me," Kearns said, shaking his head. "Still, you can't charge me because—" Gibbs stood up, arranging the documents and filing them into the folder. "Hear your old friend's pliable," he said as he walked toward the door.

"All right! All right!" Gibbs' hand was on the knob, and he turned to the young man. "I-I will tell you everything. Just promise me a deal, okay?"

Gibbs walked back to the desk and sat down once again. "Deal. Now spill."

* * *

><p>"It's in fantastic condition," Dr. Burns was saying with a shake of her head as she gazed at the overhead monitor in Abby's Lab. It depicted the French ring. "Where'd you find it?" she glanced at Ducky, who was about to speak.<p>

"On a mummified hand in a safety deposit box at North Virginia Savings and Trust," a voice interrupted. Dr. Burns, Ducky, and Abby turned around to see Gibbs standing at the door, Kate and Ziva at his sides.

Dr. Burns nodded thoughtfully, glancing at the screen. "Sounds like scavengers or grave robbers. We've had more sites ruined by them than I care to remember."

"Oh yeah, that's what happens when they snoop around in places that they aren't supposed to be." At Dr. Burns' confused expression, Gibbs took several steps toward her. "Caught a couple of scavengers at the bank today. They were part of a club. _Your_ club. They were supposed to partake in a Civil War re-enactment at Manassas this week. Near one of _your _old dig sites."

Dr. Burns blinked in surprise. "Um, I head a Civil War club," she explained to Ducky. "We participate in re-enactments. It's a kind of an annual thing, you see." She turned to Gibbs. "What were they doing at the bank?"

_She's good_, Gibbs thought. _But not good enough_. "Wouldn't ya like to know? They were looking for something that belonged to yet another member of your club. A map, to be exact. That rings any bells?"

Dr. Burns furrowed her brow, although he could see a flicker of surprise in her eyes. "What map?"

Gibbs gestured for Kate to give him the cylindrical container and passed it to Ducky. "Check it out, Duck." The medical examiner lifted his eyebrows as he retrieved a pair of surgical gloves and pulled them on. He then opened up the container and carefully pulled out the map, placing it on a nearby table.

"My, this is certainly interesting," he said after he unrolled the map and smoothed it out. Dr. Burns walked over to Ducky's side and peered over.

"This is certainly typical of the Civil War period," she commented. "The ICF stands for Irregular Confederate Forces, and Oxbow refers to a prominent Virginia family that lived in Manassas."

"Sounds familiar, isn't it?" Gibbs remarked, and Dr. Burns turned to him. Ignoring her, he turned to Ducky. "What can you tell me about that map?"

"Well, during times of war, mapmakers often add terrain or change the declination of north and south in order to confuse the enemy before it fell into the wrong hands," Ducky explained. "This certainly applied to the Civil War."

Gibbs nodded. "Anything else?"

"Yes. There is something that troubles me." Ducky pointed at the Confederate flag on the corner. "The flag is unfurled in the opposite direction of most flags."

"In other words, it's pointed to the south. Isn't that interesting, Dr. Burns?" Gibbs said the last part in a pointed tone. He held back a smirk at Dr. Burns' confused face.

"I mean, don't you find it interesting that Staff Sergeant Sorrow disappeared shortly after he discovered the map, only to be wind up dead in an iron casket? Especially when said Staff Sergeant was planning to turn the treasures over to a museum?"

Dr. Burns was staring at him with rounded eyes. Ducky looked confused.

"Jethro, what do you mean-"

"The Civil War-era weapons buried somewhere in Manassas, Duck," Gibbs interjected, still looking at the anthropologist. "Apparently, they were to kill for, especially when Staff Sergeant Sorrow refused to tell you the location." Ducky's eyes widened as he turned to Dr. Burns.

Gibbs shook his head, chuckling. "They say the Southerners buried these weapons so they would need them for when the South inevitably rose up again. Don't you find that interesting, Dr. Burns?" he walked toward the woman, the handcuffs dangling from his fingers. "I may not know much about that part of history, but what I do know was that they didn't bury Staff Sergeants alive. You would've gotten away with it, too bad your mistake was killing Sorrow before you actually got the map."

The anthropologist stared at him in stunned silence. Gibbs turned her around, pulled her wrists behind her back, and fastened the handcuffs on them.

Ducky was staring at Dr. Burns with shock on his face, watching as she was led out of the Lab by Ziva. "So...that was what you meant when you mentioned that women weren't what they seemed, Jethro..." he mumbled after a long moment.

Gibbs cocked his head. "Yeah. Speaking from experience." Kate rolled her eyes, her lips curling up into a bemused grin.

The medical examiner shook his head slightly. "I suppose there was a reason I blocked her out of my mind, after all."

Gibbs laughed as he clapped Ducky on the back. "Don't we all?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Re-reading the previous chapters, I reckon I need to start injecting real problems/tensions into the story soon. If Gibbs constantly corrected everything that went wrong the first time around, it would get boring...


	15. Desecrating the Past

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews! Here's the update, hope you like. Also, pardon me for any procedural mistakes or inconsistencies you might find. I don't have detailed knowledge of forensic science, autopsy, or investigations, and I don't have Donald P. Bellisario or NCIS experts at my side, lol.

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. This takes place between "Honor Code" (3.07) and "Under Covers" (3.08), and makes references to future episodes in later seasons. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen:<strong>  
>Desecrating the Past<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p><em>October 30, 2005<em>  
><em>10:30 PM<em>  
><em>Continental Hotel<em>  
><em>Washington, D.C.<em>

With a wink at the flustered receptionist, he picked up the key card, grabbed his luggage, and walked across the spacious lobby toward one of the elevators. Pressing the button, he glanced to his right to see a beautiful brunette immaculately dressed in a dark business jacket and dress that accentuated her shapely figure well. His lips curled into a wide grin as he took in the female, who rolled her hazel eyes.

"It must've hurt, huh?" he said, glancing up at the floor indicator. The female turned to him, her brow furrowed.

"What?" God, her voice sounded angelic.

"Falling down from Heaven must've hurt pretty bad," he elaborated, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "Good thing I have just the thing to help with that." The female looked completely unimpressed.

"So do I if you don't leave my girlfriend alone," a gruff voice growled out of nowhere, and he turned – and felt an overwhelming urge to go somewhere private, curl into a fetus position, and remain there for the rest of his life. Gulping loudly at the darkening scowl on the imposing man's face, he hastily hurried to another elevator nearby and pressed the button. All the while, he chastised himself for being so..._cowardly_, given that he himself was a Navy lieutenant.

Impatiently waiting for the elevator to arrive, he suppressed a sliver of fright at the intense blue eyes that all but drowned him in their fury. He had to be careful when hitting on prospective females, he thought, risking a glance to his right. To his relief, and the Marine – he had to be one, judging by his appearance and his frightening glare – and the brunette had disappeared. The elevator chimed, and he climbed inside.

Inside the elevator was a slightly stocky man dressed in a suit – one of the hotel's bellhops or something. Nodding at the bellhop, he pressed the button to the tenth floor. He found it a bit curious that the bellhop didn't leave the elevator, but didn't dwell too much on it, his thoughts turning to his plans for the rest of the night. He'd freshen up, have a change of clothes, and kick back for a bit while waiting for his friend to arrive so they could go to the new bar that had just opened around the corner.

Perhaps he could score with the ladies tonight, although he'd have to make sure they didn't have boyfriends or husbands or significant others who could kill with their eyes alone.

A hand suddenly clamped over his mouth and nose, a particularly strong chemical vapor assailing his nose, while an arm wrapped around his throat, squeezing hard. Shock and panic coursing through him like a powerful thunderbolt, he involuntarily took a sharp breath – and immediately felt drowsy as he struggled against the mysterious assailant. As he struggled to breathe, his eyesight began to grow blurry and he felt himself weakening while the attacker increased the pressure. As hard he tried, he couldn't fight off the darkness that threatened to envelop his vision.

No sooner had the darkness claimed him than the light began seeping in. He instinctively squinted his eyes as his vision began to adjust, growing clearer by the second. The first thing that popped in his mind was that he appeared to be in a hotel room. The next one was what the hell was happening.

"Good of you to rejoin us."

He started at the voice that seemingly came out of nowhere, blinking a couple of times to get his vision into bearing. A young, wiry man stepped into his field of vision, and he at last realized something.

He was tightly bound to a chair in the middle of the room. His room, actually. The bellhop was somewhere to his left, a sneer on his face, flanked by a well-built man with shaggy blond hair, dressed up in a white hotel uniform, his sleeves rolled up his wrists. To his right, he saw a young man with red-orange hair and a goatee. The man who now stood in front of him had slanted eyes, arched eyebrows, and wide forehead. He was sharply dressed in a dark suit with a dark green tie.

"I apologize if one of my associates here had to resort to rather...heavy-handed means," the man remarked with a smile. "But our meeting here could not be delayed any longer."

"W-who the hell are you? What's happening?" he gasped as he tried to wiggle free from the bindings, to no avail.

The man's grin widened. "Who I am is of no concern to you," he replied smoothly. "As for what's happening, you are here because you have something we want."

He stared at the captor, confusion whirring around in his mind. The man chuckled. "Ah, perhaps I should have elaborated a bit. By 'something', we mean you have information on the whereabouts of someone, someone who you know rather well, someone we are anxious to get in touch with, and soon. Someone named Jean-Paul Ranier."

He furrowed his brow, trying to comprehend that name. It sounded familiar for some reason...he couldn't put a finger on it.

"I-I have no idea of who that is..."

The man's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming slightly. "Oh, but you do. You might know him better as Paul Weiner."

This time, his eyes widened as recognition struck him. He had known Paul for some time, even hung out with him at times. He had a beautiful wife named Stephanie. But why did he have a different name...and what did this strange man want to do with him or Paul, or Jean-Paul or whatever?

"I see you now understand why you are here," the man remarked as he paced in front of him. "We have been trying to get in touch with Jean-Paul, better known as Paul in this case, for some time, and I thought you'd like to assist us with that."

He opened and closed his mouth, panic and fear still coiling around in him. "I-I don't know anything about that, or where he's at!"

The man shook his head slowly, his smile turning cruel. "Wrong answer."

His head instantly jerked to the side, his left cheek erupting into pain. Stars were dancing around in front of his eyes, a peculiar metallic taste seeping into his mouth. Blinking a couple of times, he raised his eyes to see the blonde glare threateningly at him, his huge fists – clad in surgical gloves, he noticed – clenched at his sides. He wasn't as frightening as the Marine earlier, but it was pretty close.

"Lying is not a wise thing in your situation," the man remarked coolly.

"I'm not lying, I swear!" he protested, wincing at the throbbing pain on his face. "I-I really don't know where Paul, or-or Jean-Paul—"

"Wrong once again." Immediately, a fist slammed into his face, and he let out a strangled cry of pain as he felt his nose crack. Tears began pricking his eyes as he felt a warm sensation pool inside his swollen nose.

"How can we proceed from here if you won't cooperate with us?" the man chided, casually adjusting his cufflinks. "It is simple, really: you tell us everything you know about his whereabouts and we will let you be on your merry way."

"I-I..." he panted midst the pain. "I would tell you i-if I knew...I swear! But I honestly have no idea where he is—"

The stars that danced before his eyes were larger than before as he reeled from yet another blow, his left cheek swelling up. He could definitely taste blood as it dribbled from his nose into his lips. He gritted his teeth, his mind reeling from this highly-unusual – and _painful_ – situation that he now found himself in.

"Your lips keep on saying that you do not know, yet your eyes indicate otherwise," the man said with a shake of his head. "We do not like it when one hold back information from us. It makes things more difficult than it needs to be."

"B-but I'm not holding back anythin—" he groaned aloud.

The man gave him a smile that could freeze blood as he walked over to a small metallic case that was sitting on a nearby circular table. He latched it open and carefully lifted something from it.

His eyes widened as the large, curved blade gleamed under the light, panic and fear stirring inside him with renewed force. The man walked toward him, brandishing the knife. "This particular knife is known as the karambit," the man explained, turning the blade over slightly, gently brushing the blade with his thumb. "It originated in what is now West Sumatra, and was said to be inspired by cats' claws. It originally was used for agricultural purposes, but was developed as a weapon over time. For one, the North Vietnamese used it to..._creative effect_ against captured American soldiers during the Vietnam War."

The man's eyes were cold. "I suggest you tell us everything you know, and soon."

"All right! All right!" he ground out, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. "I'll tell you!" he really didn't know where Paul was, but the hell he wasn't going to say anything, anything, to get these strange men off his back. "Last time I-I checked, Paul and his wife were about to depart for Europe. T-they said something about a tour of some sort, about visiting Paris and, um, Berlin, and Rome. They, um, were staying at a hotel here in DC before they left tomorrow night."

"The hotel?" the man inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Y-yeah," he nodded shakily, wincing from the pain emanating from his nose and face. "They're staying at, um, the Embassy Row Hotel."

The man gazed at him for what seemed to be an inordinately long time, and he tried not to fidget under the scrutiny. Finally, the man's lips curved up in apparent satisfaction. "See that happens when you cooperate with us?" He felt hope flicker inside him as he fervently nodded in agreement.

The man looked at the blond, turning over the knife. "Teach him a lesson."

His eyes widened, his heart speeding once again, panic jolting through him. "W-what? _No_! I was telling you the-the truth! I _swear_!" he struggled against the bindings.

The man gave him a cool gaze, a smirk dancing on his lips. "See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil," he said simply before he turned and left the room, followed by the bellhop and the red-headed man.

"W-wait! No! I'm not lying! No! No!" his protests fell on deaf ears. The blond had a sinister smile as he approached, the karambit in hand.

Screams reverberated throughout the room.

* * *

><p>"Ah, Halloween. The time of the year where people of all ages wear up in various costumes, go around for candies and other sweetened treats, and gorge on them afterwards," DiNozzo said conversationally, holding his arms out as he walked into the bullpen.<p>

"And not to mention the little terrors that you call children, yes?" Ziva spoke up from her new desk located next to Gibbs', where the plasma screen used to be. DiNozzo gave her a look, squinting slightly.

"That's kinda included in the 'people of all ages' part, Zee-vah," he sneered as he sat down at his desk. "But yes, children running around like, oh, the little terrors that they are, as you so aptly put it. But let's not forget the world-famous franchise starring Donald Pleasance and Jamie Lee Curtis. It was awesome, by the way."

"We get it, DiNozzo. You love candies, scantily-clad women, and movies involving masked slashers," Kate muttered as she entered the bullpen. "Why aren't you out trick-treating already?"

"Because it's not night yet, Katie," DiNozzo pointed out. "Part of Halloween's magic lies in the mystery and intrigue caused by the darkness of night. And not to mention, decorations such as the jack-o'lanterns and haunted houses. There's just something about Halloween that makes it special, y'know?"

"Yeah, considering you got lost in a haunted house last year," Kate quipped. DiNozzo scowled.

Ziva raised her eyebrows, intrigued. "DiNozzo got lost in a...house?"

"I wasn't lost as much as I wanted to explore it thoroughly," DiNozzo responded. "They did a pretty great job with all the decorations. You should've been there, it was like being at an authentic haunted house. Minus the actual ghosts and apparitions, of course."

"Your screams of fright sounded pretty authentic, especially when masked children were in there," McGee pointed out, and Kate and Ziva snickered.

"I meant to do that, McTattletale," DiNozzo snapped, swiveling toward the probationary agent. "How else were you supposed to truly enjoy the experience?"

"Well, you must've enjoyed it a lot, then."

"Oh, that's coming from someone who's dressing up like some elf lord tonight," DiNozzo stood up and walked toward McGee's desk. "Or was it some hobbit? Do enlighten us, _McFrodo_." He slapped McGee hard on the back, making him wince slightly.

"C'mon, give him a break," Kate said with a shake of her head. "It's not his fault you're scared of children."

Ziva chuckled. "The great DiNozzo is scared of children?"

"'Scared' is not the word I'd use in that situation," DiNozzo muttered as he walked toward Ziva's desk. "It's more like, oh, the dread that every adult face when they're around children who are pumped full of sugar!" For an instant, he had a frightened look on his face.

"Speaking from experience, DiNozzo?" Kate grinned. McGee stifled his laughter with his fist. DiNozzo turned to him, pointing.

"Don't pick sides, Probie!" He warned before turning to Kate. "And speaking of experience...what are you gonna dress up as tonight, Katie?"

Kate scoffed. "Assuming I participated in such a ritual, I still wouldn't tell you!"

DiNozzo's grin widened, his eyes glistening. "So...it's a surprise, then?" He said, making Kate roll her eyes. "I _love_ surprises."

_Whap!_

"Me too," Gibbs said as he strode into the bullpen, looking slightly-harried. "Got a dead body. Continental Hotel. Gear up!" he grabbed his overcoat and Sig Sauer from his desk drawer before heading toward the elevator.

"What's going on, Gibbs?" Kate asked as she grabbed her bag and pistol before going after Gibbs, DiNozzo, Ziva, and McGee following her.

"You'll see." Gibbs turned to her. "It's quite a doozy," he said with a slight shake of the head as he entered the elevator. It was a doozy, indeed, given that the MCRT hadn't been called to this case the last time around, if memory served him correctly. Kate raised her eyebrows as she exchanged glances with her co-workers before entering as well.

"Doozy?" DiNozzo repeated, furrowing his brow. Gibbs simply gave him a look, and he nodded. "We'll find out when we get there, Boss," he said hastily. Gibbs' lips quirked slightly as he exchanged looks with Kate.

After a relatively short drive – during which Gibbs actually ran the red light not once, but _twice_ – the MCRT arrived at the hotel. As soon as they, with Ducky and Jimmy in tow, entered the basement, they stopped right in their tracks, their eyes widening. Some of them covered their noses.

"Oh my dear," Ducky muttered.

"I'm gonna be sick...again," DiNozzo groaned as he held his hand to his stomach, still looking queasy from the drive over.

"You weren't kidding when you said this was a doozy," Kate mumbled, her eyes locked onto the scene before her.

Gibbs nodded grimly. "Yeah."

Lying in an open black bag in the dumpster was what appeared to be a discolored body of a young man. From what they could see, there was a gaping wound in the chest, as if someone had forcibly pried the ribcage open; they could even see the chest cavity. The eyes appeared to have been gouged out. It was very difficult to ascertain otherwise, given that much of the body was mutilated beyond recognition. Extensive burns covered much of the body.

"When we responded to an emergency call early this morning, we found this in the garbage skip," the lead police officer said as he gestured at the body.

"Why wasn't this reported earlier?" Gibbs turned to the officer.

"My guess is that nobody found the body until then. He appeared to be wearing a Navy uniform, so we contacted you, sir." Gibbs tried not to take umbrage at being referred to as 'sir', nodding instead. "Who found the body, Officer?"

"That would be me, sir," a voice spoke up, and Gibbs turned to see a pale young man clad in a dark blue maintenance suit approach. "Name's Vincent. I was working the early morning shift, and went to the basement to take away the dumpster when I found that...that." He gave a nod toward the body.

"You see anyone?" Gibbs inquired as McGee started taking notes.

Vincent shook his head. "No. As I told the officers here, I didn't see anyone else. It was very early in the morning, after all."

Gibbs nodded as he went over to Ducky, who was carefully poring over the body. "Find anything so far?"

"Ah, I wish I could say that, Jethro, but alas, this body is too disfigured to get an accurate reading of the time and cause of his death," Ducky explained. "But from what I can see from the burns across his body, I'd say he was doused in hydrofluoric acid. And judging by that rather grievous wound—" The medical examiner pointed at the chest wound. "—his chest was cut open, although with what, I cannot say with certainty until I perform a full autopsy. The same goes for the eyes."

Ducky turned to Gibbs, shaking his head slightly. "Even with the autopsy, I fear that it may be very difficult to accurately determine the exact cause of death, much less the time, and the full extent of the wounds this poor young man sustained—aside from the obvious."

Gibbs cocked his head, glancing at Ducky. "Can't you guess, Duck?"

"I could, but I would rather not speculate on the time and cause of death if I could help it, Jethro," Ducky turned to him. "I prefer to consider every possible variables and factors that would enable me to most accurately place the time and cause of death. That way, we could get anything that could lead us to the perpetrator or perpetrators in the shortest period of time as possible. In fact, I remember one case years back that got dismissed because the medical examiner extraneously guessed the time of death. By the time this discrepancy was discovered, the investigators had pursued the wrong suspects for far too long, and the evidence had somehow disappeared."

"Didn't say you couldn't do it, Duck."

Ducky smiled. "I know. I am merely saying that I prefer accurate results than unfounded speculations. Not that it would make this any easier, of course."

"Nothing comes easy in life," Gibbs said with a shrug. "Anything else?"

"Well, were it not for the corrosion caused by the acid, I would have lifted some prints," Ducky said as he reached into the bag and carefully lifted the corpse's right hand, turning it over to reveal the fingers, some which were partially dissolved. "And even if they weren't affected by the acid, I have noticed that the fingerprints were rubbed off. Curious, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Gibbs couldn't help but get this feeling that it had something to do with a future case, one that would happen pretty soon, but he didn't know which one it was. He turned to Kate. "Katie, I want you—"

"—to photograph the scene," Kate finished with a grin, indicating the camera. "Already done that, _Boss_." He had to smirk at her use of that word before turning to DiNozzo, who blinked.

"Um, I'll sketch the, uh, scene, Boss!" It didn't feel the same as when Kate said it.

Gibbs nodded and turned to Ziva and McGee. "Uh...you want me, us, to...?" McGee stuttered slightly, pointing to himself. Gibbs continued to gaze at him, and the probationary agent squirmed. "I-I guess I'll...search for any evidence and bag them, if I find any."

"_If_?" Gibbs raised his eyebrows.

"_When_ I find any," McGee hastily amended as he began putting on plastic gloves.

"The same for me here," Ziva piped in, doing the same. Gibbs smirked.

* * *

><p>"Gibbs! Kate! I'm glad you're here!" Abby exclaimed with a grin as Gibbs walked into the Lab, Caf-Pow! in hand, Kate by his side. "And you bought me a Caf-Pow! too. How sweet!"<p>

Gibbs chuckled as he dangled the plastic cup out of reach of Abby's eager hands. "You said you found something?"

Abby nodded, pouting slightly, as she turned back to her computer monitor. He noticed Abby's new assistant, Charles "Chip" Sterling, standing next to Abby and felt his mirth fade away. He managed to hold back his anger, focusing his attention to his favorite Lab Rat.

"Yep! I ran this image through a facial recognition program, and let me tell you, it took me quite a while. Not as long as Ari Haswari, mind you, but still—"

"The image, Abs?" Gibbs reiterated, slight impatience in his voice. He didn't want to think about Ari at this time. Kate grinned as she glanced at him.

"Right, the image," Abby clicked on a key, and a detailed profile appeared on the monitor. Another click of the key, and the image was displayed on the overhead monitor as well. Gibbs stepped toward it, squinting slightly at it. It depicted the face of a young man in his early to mid-thirties, dressed in a Navy Lieutenant uniform adorned with honorary badges.

"His name was Donald Sullivan, although he usually went by the nick, 'Donny,'" Abby recited off the screen. "I find that a little strange, though. He kinda looks like a 'Danny' to me." Gibbs turned to her, a bemused smile on his lips, and Abby nodded. "Continuing on, Donny was born and raised in Baltimore, and moved to D.C. when he was eighteen. Enrolled into the Naval Academy, graduated with top grades. Wow, handsome _and_ smart."

Gibbs turned to her once again, eyebrows raised.

"He joined the USS _Enterprise_ as an Ensign, where he was eventually promoted to Lieutenant. He was on leave by the time he was killed," Abby continued as she walked over to a nearby desk and picked up an evidence bag. "You know, it's a good thing his ID card was mostly intact, or at least his picture was," she said as she examined the card. It was partially melted, with identifying features such as name and address faded away. "Otherwise, we would've been digging around for a long time, even with the technology we have at hand."

Abby turned to him. "As for the phone that we managed to find at the scene...I'm, um, kinda still working on that."

Gibbs nodded, satisfied. "Good job, Abs." With a small smile, he handed her the Caf-Pow!, pecking her on the cheek. She grinned at him before slurping on it deeply. With a pointed glare at a confused Chip, Gibbs left the Lab.

"Y'know, I can get you one if you want," Gibbs said half-jokingly as he headed toward the elevator. Kate snorted.

"If I want to forego sleep for an entire week—wait, no, a _month_, then sure," she teased.

Gibbs shrugged, pressing the button. "Like I said before, sleep's overrated." Kate let out a chuckle as she slapped him on the arm.

"Like I said before, everything's overrated to you, except for coffee," she said with a grin. He could hear her next, unsaid words, and his response was to enter the elevator, pushing the button to the floor below. As usual, the silence between them was companionable and Gibbs couldn't help but glance at her a couple of times, catching her eyes every time.

He thought back to the last time he had truly enjoyed silence with someone since Shannon. His ex-wives had always filled the silence with their harping, be it nagging or screaming while they chased after him with a baseball bat. His agents did likewise: DiNozzo would always yammer incessantly about movies and their trivia, often than not grating his nerves. McGee would talk about computer technology in an attempt to dispel the silence. Ziva would sometimes chat a bit about her experience in Mossad, but other times she was content to remain silent. Ducky liked to ramble on a bit about cases, about musicals, or about some history trivia that he found fascinating. And don't get him started on Palmer.

It was like Kate truly understood him, that he preferred silence. And he'd found it interesting that _he_ was the one who had been breaking the silence instead of the other way around whenever he was around her.

"Hell of a Halloween, isn't it?"

Kate glanced at him, her lips twitching. "Considering that we don't often find acid-soaked bodies in a hotel basement every day, yeah."

"Hopefully, this won't be a regular occurrence," he chuckled.

This wasn't the first time his team had to contend with unusual, if not strange, cases on around Halloween. Searching for a Marine's kidnapped daughter. Arriving at an abandoned research ship in the middle of the Atlantic. Pursuing a serial killer who left them taunting messages via video feeds. Finding a prankster of a Lance Corporal dead at his car. A spate of deaths related to water intoxication. And so on.

"Gibbs?" He blinked to see Kate standing next to the now-open elevator, looking at him with concerned eyes. He shook his head and stepped out of the elevator, heading toward Autopsy.

"Tell me you got something, Duck," Gibbs said as he walked over to Ducky and Palmer, who were poring over the mutilated body.

"Not very much, I am afraid," Ducky replied as he gestured over the corpse. "I am still working on it, but sometimes what little you manage to find can be very illuminating. As you are aware of, the body here was covered in hydrofluoric acid, a highly-corrosive substance that can wreak considerable damage on bodily tissues. That is why it was difficult to assess in detail the exact nature of his wounds."

The medical examiner pointed around the wound on the chest area. "See this gaping wound here? His heart was carved out, presumably with a combat knife of some sort."

Gibbs nodded as he and Kate leant over to have a closer look. "Yeah, I can see that."

"That wasn't all. His liver was also missing." Ducky then went around to the head of the slab, gently prying the mouth open. "And so were his tongue and his eyeballs as well. Whoever did this must have a very dark soul."

"Or none at all," Gibbs replied. Ducky nodded.

"Indeed. Not only was our victim deprived of several, critical organs, but he appears to have suffered extensive torture beforehand. Once again, the acid made it difficult to determine, but I was able to locate several markings that indicates that he sustained deep cuts to his body." The medical examiner pointed at several points in the shoulder area, groin, and upper arms. "His liver was definitely removed post-mortem, and his heart likely so, but I do not know whether his eyes and tongue were removed while he was still alive or afterwards."

"Wouldn't be surprised if he was still alive when it happened," Gibbs commented. He couldn't imagine what the man, Donald Sullivan, must've went through in that time, and vowed to find and bring the perpetrators to justice. Kate looked slightly queasy as she gazed at the body, and he couldn't help but put a comforting arm around her shoulder. She blinked and looked at him before her lips curled into a smile.

Ducky nodded before he realized something. "Did you determine this man's identity?"

"Yeah. Name was Donald Sullivan. Graduated from the Naval Academy. Served on the _Enterprise_."

The medical examiner nodded. "Such a shame. A promising young man, snuffed out just like that," he said as he began removing his stained gloves. "It would've been a high honor to serve abroad a ship so prestigious as the USS _Enterprise_. Did you know she was the first carrier in the world to be powered by nuclear power, and is currently the longest naval vessel in the world?"

Gibbs smirked. "Yeah, I think I read about it in a book somewhere." He walked toward the elevator.


	16. The Past Thickens

**A/N:** Thanks Jadeite and dg101 for the reviews! Was it Gibbs and Kate at the hotel? I wonder the same. ;) And I enjoy having the girls gang up on DiNozzo, it's fun to write about it.

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen:<strong>  
>The Past Thickens<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>"Never heard of him."<p>

Gibbs looked at Dr. Phillip Williams, Dean and Provost of the Naval Academy, who was shaking his head as he looked at the picture of Donny Sullivan.

"You sure?" he shared glances with Kate and DiNozzo. He had been about to go to the Norfolk Naval Base, where the USS Enterprise was docked – nevermind the strange feeling that washed over him at the thoughts of returning to Norfolk – only to find out through the MTAC that the ship had sailed from port that very morning, and Sullivan's C.O. wasn't available.

The Dean nodded, his jowls dangling slightly, as he handed the photograph back. "If he had attended here, I'm certain I would have known. If you want to be sure, though, I suggest you go to the Registrar's Office."

Gibbs nodded. "We'll do that, sir."

"Our Registrar, Dr. Thomas Davis, should be able to provide you some information," the Dean said as he picked up his phone and began dialing on it. "I'll let him know." After speaking on it for several moments, he hung up, turning to them. "Dr. Davis will see you now. His office is located on the second deck of the Nimitz Library."

"Much appreciated, Dr. Williams," Gibbs said with a curt nod as he reached into his overcoat and pulled out a card. "Give us a call if you find anything."

The Dean nodded. "Will do."

With that, he left the Dean's office, his two agents following him. It felt a bit disorientating to go into a case blind, given that this was one of the cases that he had not worked the last time around. He hoped he would resolve this case and catch the perpetrators as soon as possible.

"A Naval Academy graduate who never actually attended...that kinda reminds me of the _Manifestation_," DiNozzo remarked, a slight smirk on his face as he raised a finger. "1978. Harrison Ford, Sean Connery, and Helen Mirren. Great movie." Kate rolled her eyes, looking bored already.

"Do you have to make stupid movie references everywhere you go?" She muttered, causing Gibbs to smile.

"Given that that movie takes place on Halloween, and today is Halloween, so..." DiNozzo gave her a playful grin.

"I assume it's about some guy who doesn't know he's dead, right?" Gibbs said dryly as he walked around the maze of buildings that dotted the sprawling campus, trying to figure out where the hell the Nimitz Library was. DiNozzo blinked before shaking his head.

"No, that's _Sixth Sense_. 1999. Bruce Willis and Haley Joel Osment. Although, now that you mention it, it's premise is kinda similar to the Manifestation..."

"Look what you've done, Gibbs!" Kate chided, giving the silver-haired Marine a slight glare. "Now he'll go on all day, and one of us are gonna murder him in the end."

Gibbs cocked his head. "That's a thought."

"Oh, ha-ha," DiNozzo deadpanned at Kate. "As much as I love films, I do not ramble about them all day, unlike McProbie with his geeky computer stuff." He squinted in thought. "Speaking of which, I just remembered one. It's the _Spirituappening_. 1984. Jamie Lee Curtis and—"

Gibbs rounded on DiNozzo, getting into his face. "You wanna find out what it's like to be a ghost in a Halloween movie?"

The Special Agent flinched under Gibbs' annoyed glare. "Um, I'd rather not, boss."

Without a word, Gibbs turned around and continued on. Kate tried to stifle her giggles, eliciting a glare from DiNozzo.

"This isn't funny, Kat-Kat!"

"You're right, it's not funny," Kate said with a smirk. "It's _hilarious_, more so than any of your silly movies." She scurried off after Gibbs. A scowling DiNozzo followed her.

After asking several passing students for directions, Gibbs entered the imposing Library building, and after some searching, located Dr. Thomas Davis's office on the second floor. When they entered, the aforementioned Registrar raised his head and looked at them inquiringly.

"Are you Special Agent Gibbs?" he asked as he stood up from his desk and walked to them. Gibbs nodded, pulling out his wallet and showing his NCIS badge and ID card as per protocol. "NCIS. We spoke to the Dean regarding one of your students named Donald Sullivan." Kate passed the photograph to him.

Dr. Davis furrowed his brow thoughtfully as he looked at the photo. "Donald Sullivan? I'll have to check him out," he said as he returned to the desk and began typing on the keyboard.

"Huh, this is strange," he said a short time later, looking baffled. "There are no records of a Donald Sullivan in our enrollment records, now and back then. Are you sure you've got the right person?"

Gibbs shared glances with Kate and DiNozzo. "Yeah. He was found dead at a hotel this morning, and the profile information we found on him indicated that he was a student at the Naval Academy."

Dr. Davis remained silent for a moment as he digested the information. "Mr. Sullivan's death is unfortunate, but as I said before, our records indicate that he wasn't a student here." He turned the monitor slightly toward them, and Gibbs peered at it. There were several 'Sullivans' there, but Donald wasn't among them. "You probably got the wrong or fraudulent information."

"Probably," Gibbs conceded. The case was getting stranger by the minute. He pulled out his card and handed it to the Registrar. "You find anything else, let us know."

"So, what are we gonna do next?" Kate asked as they left the office, and the building.

"We dig deeper," Gibbs replied, squinting against the afternoon sun as he made his way in the general direction of the parking lot.

* * *

><p>"Somebody <em>better<em> got something," Gibbs called out as he entered the bullpen. McGee immediately stood up, apparently attuned to his boss's legendary impatience.

"I think we might have found something, boss," McGee said.

Gibbs turned to him. "You _think_?"

McGee seemed to falter slightly at Gibbs' pointed gaze, much to DiNozzo's amusement.

"McGee here has managed to find something from the damaged phone that we had retrieved from the crime scene," Ziva interjected as she stood up and walked over to the plasma that was now displayed between DiNozzo and McGee's desks, activating it.

"Um, yeah, like the case with the Civil War case, we – Abby and I – managed to repair the phone and run a search through it," McGee explained, showing the cell phone, which was connected to the desktop, before tapping on his keyboard. Immediately, his monitor was channeled to the plasma, depicting a list of cell phone numbers and their times. Another click, and several numbers were outlined in green; they were the same.

"The victim, um, Sullivan made several calls last night," McGee explained. "The last one was right before ten-seventeen last night. After that, there were no more calls for several hours—"

"I can see that, McGee," Gibbs cut in, faint sarcasm lacing his tone. "Whose number was that?"

With another click on McGee's keyboard, the address was displayed on the screen, beneath the phone number list. Then the screen switched to a detailed identification record of a young man in his late twenties. "His name is—"

"Sean Harris." A new voice came out of nowhere, and Gibbs and the others turned to see a red-haired man stand at the entrance to the bullpen, looking at his own image on the plasma. His goatee rustled slightly as he flashed them a friendly smile. Gibbs surveyed him for a moment. He looked normal enough, yet his gut began churning.

As McGee hastily shut the plasma off, Gibbs walked toward Harris. "How can I help you?"

"Well, I got a call from NCIS asking me to come here. It's about a guy named Donny Sullivan," Harris replied, looking a bit confused. "Do you know anything about that?"

Gibbs gazed at Harris for a moment. Why didn't the victim's family or relatives come over here? He put the thought on hold, nodding. "Yeah. Something happened to him, hence the call."

Harris creased his forehead. "Sir, if I may ask, who's Donny Sullivan—wait, he couldn't be my friend who disappeared last night, is he?"

"You tell me." Pushing his annoyance down, Gibbs picked one of several photographs up from his desk and showed it to Harris, whose eyes widened. "Oh my God, so it was him..." He looked up at Gibbs and the others. "You said his name was Donny?"

Gibbs blinked in confusion. "It isn't?" Harris shook his head as he gave the picture back.

"No, his name was Robert Ernest. He was my best friend. We made plans last night, but for some reason, he didn't show up...I thought he changed plans or something," he said with a slight shake of the head. "What happened?"

"He was found dead this morning," DiNozzo spoke up. "In the hotel basement, doused in acid."

Harris' eyes widened in surprise and disbelief. "What? Are you serious?" he shook his head slowly. "Oh man...so that's why he was a non-show. Did you find the person who did this to him? And why did he have a different name?"

Good question, Gibbs thought. "We're still working on that," he replied, his mind whirling around this revelation. So that was why he wasn't in the Navy Academy's records...yet he was included in the Naval Identification Record, if his profile record on Abby's screen was any indication. He had to get to the bottom of it.

"Can you provide us with any information that can help us with this case?" Kate asked.

Harris nodded. "Uh, sure. What do you need?"

"When was the last time you spoke to him?" Gibbs inquired. Harris thought about it for a moment.

"Last night, around ten, I think," he replied with a nod. "Rob was pretty pumped about going to the new bar that just opened a short walk from the hotel he was staying in. The Continental Hotel."

That was the hotel where the body was found in. Gibbs was about to open his lips—

"Jethro, I would like to inform you of—Oh." Ducky stopped at the sight of Harris for a moment before continuing on to the Team Leader.

"Inform me of what, Duck?" Gibbs prompted, glancing at the red-head.

"The autopsy results," Ducky replied. "With great difficulty, I have managed to determine the time and cause of death. Come on, I will explain more on the way." Gibbs nodded, turning to Harris.

"You find anything else about Mr. Ernest, let us know. DiNozzo will give you a card." As if on cue, DiNozzo reached into his desk and gave Harris a card. Gibbs was about to turn around when something struck him. "Has his family been informed?"

"I don't think so, sir," Harris replied with a shake of the head. "Rob's been estranged from them, haven't spoken to them for years." Gibbs silently nodded as he followed Ducky out of the bullpen.

"Mr. Ernest? I thought the man's name was Sullivan," Ducky commented, looking slightly confused.

"So did I until recently," Gibbs replied as he pressed the button of the elevator, glancing at the medical examiner. "His name was Robert Ernest. The name Sullivan must've been an alias or something."

Ducky nodded slowly. "Very interesting..." Gibbs suddenly got this feeling that Ducky knew something more about the victim.

"You know something?" he asked, entering the elevator and hitting the button to the Autopsy floor. Ducky nodded.

"As a matter of fact, I do," he said as the elevator doors opened and they entered Autopsy. Palmer looked up from Sullivan's corpse which was still laying on the slab.

"Despite the great difficulty of performing the autopsy, thanks in no small part to the acid, I managed to determine the time and cause of death, as I have just told you." He pointed toward the mouth. "To begin with, I was uncertain whether they were removed before or after his death at first, but upon closer examination, I found marks at the base of the mouth, where the tongue once was, that seemly matches those with the serrated edges of a combat knife, along with clots that coagulated there."

"His tongue was cut off while he was still alive," Gibbs commented.

"Correct. The same goes for the eyes, if these marks are any indication." He pointed at the tiny bruise spots near the edge of the eyelids. "These bruises were probably caused when one put something—"

"I get it, Ducky," Gibbs interrupted when Ducky was about to imitate jabbing something into the eye with his hands.

"That's not the only thing: the damage sustained by the optic nerve and the endings of the medial, lateral, superior, and inferior rectus muscles, as well as scarring on the periorbital fat tissue, seem to indicate the eyes were torn out after they were sufficiently dislodged—"

"Duck," Gibbs said exasperatedly, feeling slightly queasy. He had never liked medical stuff, ever.

"You know what they say, an eye for an eye makes the world blind," Palmer spoke up, a wide grin on his face. "Get it? An eye—nevermind," he muttered, turning away to manage the trays when Gibbs and Ducky gave him pointed looks.

"This young man lost his eyes and tongue when he was still alive. As terrible as they were, it was not the cause of death," Ducky explained. "The markings on the neck are similar to those found at the base of the tongue, alas, his neck was sliced open, presumably after all the other wounds were inflicted."

"What about his heart?"

Ducky had a grim expression on his face, and Gibbs' gut involuntarily clenched. He wished he hadn't asked the last question. "Don't tell me—"

When the medical examiner nodded, Gibbs swore under his breath.

"Yes, it was worse than I thought, _much_ worse," Ducky said. "I will not bother you with small details of how precisely the heart was removed, and while he was still alive and breathing. I imagine that it is roughly the same as open heart surgery, though, only done much crudely and without anesthes—"

"I get it, Duck!" Gibbs cut in.

"As we know, the liver was removed after death, so let's move on to the time of death, shall we? As extensive the acidic damage was, it wasn't consistent with the extent of the damage if it had been poured over twenty-four hours earlier. This means the acid was poured at least five hours before we discovered the body. As it was probably done shortly after his death, I would place his death at around two in the morning."

"According to McGee, the last call he made was about a quarter after ten...that means he was tortured for several hours afterwards," Gibbs said, turning to Ducky.

"Yes. One cannot imagine what he went through..." Ducky said sadly before remembering something. "Oh yes, before I forget, with a closer look, I found that not all of his fingerprints were rubbed off or corroded away. I managed to lift one off and sent it to Abby for analysis. The results were...interesting, based on what you have told me earlier."

Gibbs raised his brow inquiringly. Ducky walked over to his computer monitor, Gibbs following.

"His name wasn't Donald Sullivan or Robert Ernest; it was Adam Trott. And he wasn't a Lieutenant." Ducky paused for a moment as he clicked on the keyboard, and a face along with a personnel record profile popped up on the screen.

"He was a freelance assassin."

* * *

><p>"McGee, I want you to put up Donald Sullivan's profile," Gibbs instructed as he entered the bullpen. "And where's Harris?"<p>

"He left, boss," DiNozzo replied. "Want me to go get him or something...?"

"What do you think?" Gibbs snapped, and the Special Agent nodded hastily. "On it!" he said as he scurried off toward the elevator.

"What's going on, Gibbs?" Kate asked curiously as she got up and walked to his side. "Our guy, Donny, wasn't what he seemed," Gibbs replied as he turned to the plasma, where the aforementioned man's picture looked back at him. "McGee, do a search for Robert Ernest."

McGee nodded, his fingers quickly flittering across the keyboard. The singular screen became a split screen, showing the profile information of Donald Sullivan and Robert Ernest. Both pictures were of the same man, with slight different information on their profiles (Sullivan was born and raised in Baltimore, while Ernest was born in Richmond and moved several times before settling in Alexandria).

"So they were the same man..." Ziva commented with slightly-raised eyebrows.

"That's not the interesting part, Ziver," Gibbs commented, realizing too late that he had used her nickname. At Ziva's curious look, Gibbs turned to the plasma.

"Now run a search for Adam Trott."

McGee raised his eyebrows in slight confusion. "Adam Trott?"

"Did I stutter?"

"On it, boss!" McGee began rapidly tapping away at his computer. His brow furrowed. "Strange...it appears that his information is in what appears to be a secure AFIS database."

Gibbs gave him a look. "Unsecure it."

"It's encrypted. It's gonna take some-um, unsecuring it now," McGee corrected when Gibbs' glare hardened. After several long moments, which were an eternity in Gibbs Time, another picture and profile information at last popped up, overlapping the other two. It was the same man, dressed in what appeared to be a dark suit.

At that moment, DiNozzo came bounding into the bullpen, looking slightly out of breath. "He's not here, boss..." he raised his eyebrows upon seeing Trott's picture on the screen. "So, uh, what'd I miss?"

"Not much," Kate supplied. "It appears Donald Sullivan wasn't who he seemed like."

"I kinda gathered that when Harris said his name was Robert Ernest," DiNozzo said, glancing at the brunette.

"...and the same goes for Robert Ernest as well."

"Huh, very interesting," DiNozzo commented. "Why, this—"

"If you make another movie reference, I'll shoot you!" Kate cut him off with a glare.

"And I will help you out," Ziva piped in.

"The only person Katie's shooting is me," Gibbs spoke up. "McGee, you continue working on the cell phone, see what else you can find. Kate, DiNozzo, you go back to the hotel again—"

"Gibbs," Kate said with a slight pout. "If you send me back there with DiNozzo, there'll be another body, for sure." Gibbs couldn't help but smirk at the pleading expression on the brunette's face and the wary one on the Special Agent's.

"DiNozzo, you stay here with Ziva and work on profiling anything that's not on these records. Find his bank records, housing, anything. Do the same for Harris, and run this photograph for prints as well."

"You do realize that there is a strong possibility that DiNozzo here might disappear and never be found ever again, right?" Ziva cut in, a serious expression on her face.

Gibbs' smirk widened. "I'll take that risk." He turned to DiNozzo, who looked unnerved. "Remember Rule 19?"

"Always double check, got it," DiNozzo said with a nod.

"And Rule 20?"

"Yeah, I'll be thorough in the search." Upon seeing Ziva's confused face, the Special Agent continued: "It's the boss' rules. He has a pretty long list."

"Yup, over fifty. You shouldn't have a problem memorizing them all, Ziva," Gibbs quipped before turning to Kate, who smiled. His heart flip-flopped right there. "You'll go to the hotel with me."

"Looking forward to it," Kate grinned, her eyes twinkling. Gibbs nodded, ignoring the clenching of his gut as he grabbed another photograph of Sullivan/Ernest from his desk and walked toward the elevator before stopping and turning around. "Oh, and DiNozzo?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"You fill Director Shepard in on what's happening."

DiNozzo blinked. "Uh, me?"

"Yeah, you're good with women, aren't you?" Gibbs said as he walked over to the elevator. Kate giggled.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Rules 19 and 20 are completely made up. Rule 19 is: "Always double check", basically the same as Rule 3 that was recited by Gibbs in "Yankee White" (1.01) but which was replaced (or retconned) by another rule later on. Rule 20 is: "Always be thorough in your investigations."

Oh, and the films _Manifestation_ and _Spirituapping_ are made up as well.


	17. Checking into the Past

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews! I enjoy reading them. Here's Chapter Seventeen, hope you like.

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seventeen:<strong>  
>Checking into the Past<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>"Weren't you two here last night?"<p>

Gibbs stared at the hotel receptionist in confusion. He glanced at Kate, who shrugged.

"No, we weren't, ma'am," he said, glancing at her name plate. Rebecca Summers, it read. "What makes you think so?"

The auburn-haired young woman tilted her head to the side. "Oh, just wondering. There were two persons who checked into here last night. They looked pretty much like you two," she replied with a shrug. "They were a couple." A beat. "Are you?"

It was something that he'd noticing over the past couple of months or so. Quite a few people — suspects, citizens who willingly cooperated with them on cases, the few NCIS personnel who felt brave (or foolish) enough to actually ask him that, among others — had asked if they were a couple, which he had constantly replied in the negative or brushed it off. Even Jenny, Fornell, and _DiNozzo_ of all people had noticed, if their hints were any indication. He'd had to increasingly resort to the Glare, with some success. It still didn't stop them, particularly Joe the barista and Mark the gym instructor from giving them knowing looks and smirks, however.

"Ah...we're Special Agents working a case." Gibbs stole a glance at Kate, noticing the growing blush on her cheeks. Trying to calm his roiling gut down, Gibbs pulled out the folded photograph from his overcoat and handed it over to her. "Did this guy check in last night?"

Rebecca examined it and nodded, a wistful smile on her face. "Yes, he did," she typed away for a moment before nodding again. "His name was Donald Sullivan, and he checked in at around ten-thirty last night. His room was W1015, at the west wing of the tenth floor."

"Was anyone with him?"

Rebecca thought about it. "No, I don't think so, or at least not at that time." She shook her head, before gazing at him curiously. "Why? Did something happen?"

"Can we have the key card, ma'am?" Gibbs skirted the question. Rebecca gave him an appraising gaze before she nodded. "A moment, please." She headed into the back room and emerged a moment later, holding a keycard in a card sleeve. "As with keys, we hold backup keycards in reserve, just in case our customers lose their cards."

Gibbs nodded as he took the card, not interested in that tidbit. "Thanks for your assistance, ma'am." Rebecca beamed.

"You're welcome, sir! And are you sure you two aren't a couple?"

Gibbs' response was to give her a small half-smile as he headed toward one of the elevators.

"That was...interesting," Kate commented. Gibbs turned to her, noting her cheeks were still flushed.

"Which one? The case or us being a couple?" he joked. Kate's blush returned, and she gave him a glare.

"You know _perfectly _what I mean, Agent Gibbs!"

Gibbs let out a laugh as he looked at the floor indicator. "Well...I think things would be interesting if we were a couple, Agent Todd." He blinked at what he had just said. What the hell caused him to say that? And why did his gut just clench as if in agreement? As he stepped into the elevator, he chanced a glance at Kate, and couldn't help but grin at her expression.

"I'm going to shoot you," she warned. Gibbs' grin widened, feeling his earlier awkwardness fade away.

"I know, Katie."

"I really mean it." Kate narrowed her eyes, although the ends of her lips twitched.

"I know." Gibbs bounced on his heels ever so slightly.

Kate couldn't hold it back, and let out a chuckle. "You're incorrigible, you know that, Jethro?"

Gibbs stilled at her use of his middle name, looking over at Kate, who looked surprised herself as well. He didn't remember a time she called him that, and thought about how...right it sounded, coming from her. He shook the thought off, and clamped down on the peculiar sensation coursing through him.

"Yeah, that's what they all tell me."

Once again, the silence that descended upon them was comfortable, although tinted with something else he couldn't discern, although it wasn't awkwardness. As the elevator continued its ascent, punctuated by a couple of stops where guests entered or left, Gibbs preoccupied himself by watching the numbers slowly click by in the overhead indicator. He could feel her eyes on him from time to time.

At last, the elevator bounced to a stop at the tenth floor. As the doors opened, he stopped in his tracks as his eyes met blue and hazel orbs. He was starting to understand why the receptionist kept on saying that she had saw them here last night. The man appeared to be a Marine, judging by his rigid posture and his high-and-tight haircut, while the female bore a striking resemblance to Kate, although her hair was a shade lighter. With a glance at Kate, Gibbs nodded curtly at the doppelganger couple and walked out of the elevator, feeling their gaze on them.

"I think we just stumbled into an episode of the Twilight Zone..." Kate mumbled as they turned into the hallway to the left.

Gibbs let out a chuckle, scanning the numbers of the rooms they passed by. "You know what they say: we have a double somewhere in the world."

"Small world we live in."

"Ain't the truth," Gibbs laughed as they stood in front of the room labeled W1015. Inserting the keycard into the lock, Gibbs turned the handle and slowly pushed the door open.

Sunlight filtered into the spacious room, illuminating the well-made bed, the HD screen television perched on a polished wooden desk, and the circular desk and chair near the corner, along with two nightstands and a torchiere lamp. To the untrained eye, the room looked immaculately clean, as if no one had slept there for some time, yet to Gibbs' well-tuned senses, something felt off around here. As Kate checked the bathroom, Gibbs peered into the closet before scanning the room once again.

Rule 41 entered his mind: if something feels off, they are.

He furrowed his brow in concentration as he inspected the nearby nightstand before looking under the bed. Nothing there.

"Nothing's in the bathroom, it looks like it hasn't been used recently," Kate said as she stepped out of said room, looking around. Gibbs nodded as he scanned the room once again, taking in the minimally-decorated walls and designer carpet floor. Something caught his eye, and he squinted to see the outline of a large rug on the middle of the room that all but blended into the carpet. He crouched and peeled the rug off.

"Katie, we've got something here."

There were several large discolored spots, along with smaller splatters. Clearly, the perpetrators had tried to clean the blood off, and nearly succeeded.

"That means the victim was here," Kate said as she examined the stains. Right that moment, the _Oo-rah_ ringtone began blaring from Gibbs' cellphone (he had changed it from _Taps_ because it was, unfortunately, associated with Ari Haswari). Retrieving it, he glanced at the caller ID before placing it on his ear.

"Yeah, McGee?"

"_Boss, I ran Sulliv—um, Trott's cell again, and managed to plot a line of places where he made calls, based on the interaction of his cell phone' signals with nearby cell towers. It began in Richmond, and went all the way to D.C. through Fredericksburg; he was never in Norfolk in the first place. The time of his calls indicates that he arrived in DC over a week ago._"

Gibbs nodded, mulling over the information. "He go anywhere in DC?"

"_From what I can see, he's been to a few places, but they're mundane ones, such as hotels, supermarkets, gas stations, and so on. Last place was the hotel where his body was found._" A beat. "_Actually, there's something I couldn't help but notice._"

"Such as?" Gibbs' voice was becoming impatient.

"_He's been repeatedly going to one place in particular. It's a privately-owned boathouse located near Brookmont._"

"That's down the Potomac," Gibbs commented, filing the information away in the back of his mind. "You find anything else?"

"_I tried tracking Harris's phone, but he must've either turned it off or used a burn phone, because I couldn't get anything._"

Gibbs exhaled slowly, looking at Kate, who was watching him intently. He wished they could get more-wait, there was something.

"Can't you trace Harris' phone even if it's turned off?"

"_Well, I suppose it could be possible, as long as the battery wasn't removed, but he apparently did so. And although burn phones can still be traced, all I would've gotten was the last general location where it was turned off, with no indications of where Harris might've went__—_"

"Good job," Gibbs cut in, wishing he had worked on this case the last time. It would've made things much simpler, if not easier. "I want you to fetch DiNozzo and Ziva, and check out Harris's house. You got the address, right?

"_Right, boss._"

Gibbs hung up. "The dead man arrived at DC over a week ago, and had been frequenting one place more than the others," he told Kate. "It's a private boathouse located to the south of DC."

"Do you think that boathouse has something to do with his death?" Kate asked. Gibbs shrugged.

"It's a possibility. But we're not going to know for sure until we check it out. But we focus on this for now," he said as he reached into Kate's pack and took the camera out. As much as he wanted to go over to the boathouse right away, it was private property and there were these particularly annoying nuisances called "probable cause" and "warrants." The evidence he had would easily be dismissed as circumstantial.

He'd find a way or other, though. He always did.

With any luck, they would hopefully be able to use the security cameras on the tenth floor, as well as any personnel who were there at the time, to ascertain who had entered and left this room last night. But he had this feeling it wouldn't be that easy.

* * *

><p>Sometimes he hated it when he was right.<p>

"Many of the security cameras on the tenth floor somehow went offline," Head Security Supervising Officer William Garraty was saying as he gestured at two screens in the front of the control room they were in. "It took hours for our technical experts to bring them back online...but that's not the strange part."

"Which is...?" Gibbs tilted his head to the side.

"Some of the cameras on that floor were working fine." Garraty's brow creased as he looked at the screens. "And the same went for the other floors."

"That goes for the corridor leading to the basement too?" Kate inquired. Gibbs had to smile at that. Kate thought of everything.

Garraty nodded. "Yes, they were working fine all night."

It sounded like a targeted hacking attack. "What do you make of this, sir?"

"It could've been a simple malfunction, but several cameras going on the fritz at the same time, and on a specific floor, makes it too coincidental to be anything other than a hacking attack," Garraty replied. "We're still investigating, though."

"Could you replay footage from the other cameras on the tenth floor?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes, we can. The cameras went out at around ten-thirty, so we'll play the other cameras from that time onward." Garraty gestured for the other officers to replay the footage, which were displayed on a large overhead screen.

It depicted a long hallway. After a moment, he could see someone appear far in the distance, dragging what appeared to be something – or _someone_ – into a room. Several moments passed before three figures entered the hallway and approached the same room. Due to the quality of the cameras, their features were hard to make out.

"Could you zoom on that?" Gibbs pointed at the mysterious individuals. Garraty nodded, and the image froze before zooming in. Even so, it was still difficult to identify who they were, because they kept their faces away for the most part. Whoever they were, they definitely knew what they were doing.

When the figures left the room later on, one of them were slightly turned toward the cameras, his face half-revealed. For some reason, something felt familiar, like he had seen them before. But exactly what it was, he didn't know.

"Show the basement corridor cameras."

At Garraty's gesture, the screen switched to a dimly-lit basement corridor. At first, it showed nothing, but then a hotel staff worker appeared, pushing a large laundry cart. Only the back and side of his face were visible. He eventually went back the way he came, but kept his face down as well. This was strange, Gibbs thought. Why would they apparently disable the cameras on the tenth floor but not do the same for the basement corridor?

"Could you send over the tapes to NCIS for further analysis?" He turned to Garraty, who nodded.

"Yes, we can do that."

"Much appreciated," Gibbs said as he left the room. Before too long, he was in the office of Executive Housekeeper Gregory Schoen on the first floor, near the reception area.

"A crime took place there?" Schoen raised his bushy eyebrows in surprise, looking between Gibbs and Kate.

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah, our victim was tortured and killed there last night, and his body was taken down to the basement, where it was found this morning."

Schoen sat back in his chair. "I'm aware of that, but I didn't know that room was a crime scene," he said.

Gibbs shared a glance with Kate. "The cleaning crews didn't inform you of that?"

Schoen shook his head. "No, they didn't. Gimme a sec," he reached into a file drawer and rummaged through it before taking a thick file out. He placed it on the desk and thumbed through it for a couple of moments. "According to this report, all the rooms on the tenth floor had been accounted for, and this presumably included W1015," he passed on the report to Gibbs and Kate.

"Who was responsible for overseeing them on the tenth floor?" Kate asked, reading the report.

"Ms. Amelia Purcell, Floor Supervisor," Schoen replied, picking his phone up. "She's responsible for the tenth floor. I'll give her a ring." He spoke into the phone for a moment before hanging up. "She's on her way here." Several moments later, a young woman dressed in a suit and skirt entered the office, holding a folder.

"I got what you requested, sir," Amelia said as she looked at Gibbs and Kate curiously.

"Ms. Purcell, those two are from NCIS—"

"NCIS?"

"Naval Criminal Investigative Service," Kate interjected.

Schoen nodded, looking a bit annoyed at the interruption. "I just learned that one of the rooms on the tenth floor was an actual crime scene," he said. Amelia's eyes widened. "You said in your report that all the rooms on that floor were accounted for."

"I didn't know that," Amelia replied, reaching into the folder and giving them a document. "The cleaning crews covered all of the rooms this morning. They would've notified me about anything out of the ordinary, but they didn't. Here's the list of employees who were on cleaning duty on that floor this morning."

Gibbs took it and scanned over it. None of the names stood out, but he would look further into them. "One of them was probably on in it," he commented. "Mind if we take them?"

Schoen shook his head. "Oh, not at all, sir. Anything to help you catch whoever did this."

"One more thing: did any of the guests on the tenth floor hear or see anything strange last night?" Gibbs asked. Schoen and Amelia shook their heads. "No, they didn't," the Executive Housekeeper said. "Otherwise, we'd have told you of it."

Gibbs found this to be a bit strange. Either the hotel rooms were soundproofed (or at least insulated) or most of the guests were out last night. He gave Schoen and Amelia the cards. "Let us know if you find anything."

There was one more thing left to do, Gibbs thought as he left the office. Heading for the basement, he entered the Custodial Supervisor's Office. Brian Miller raised his head. "How can I help you, sir and ma'am?"

"We'd like to talk with one of your employees who discovered the body this morning," Gibbs replied.

Miller cocked his head. "Who?"

"His name was Vincent," Kate supplied. "Don't know his last name, or if that's a first name."

Miller nodded slowly, looking like he was trying to remember something. "Vincent...Vincent...oh yes! Hold on for a moment." He turned to his computer and typed on it. His brow furrowed. "Funny...Vincent wasn't supposed to be on the early morning shift today, much less be at the basement. He works in maintenance. You sure it was him?"

"Yeah, he mentioned he was going to the basement when he stumbled into the body," Gibbs said. Miller looked at him for a moment before turning to his computer.

"I wonder why. It's not trash day. Even if it was, he's not supposed to go there; that's the garbage guy's thing. That's what he looks like, by the way," Miller said, turning the monitor slightly. At the top of the employment record/checklist was a photograph of a Vincent McGrath. Although he was tall, pale, and lanky, he was definitely not the guy Gibbs had talked to in the basement.

"That's not the guy we talked to this morning," Gibbs pointed out.

Miller looked aback, raising his brows. "Really?"

"He looked pretty much like him. You might have an impostor in your midst," Kate said.

"We'll have to check him out," Miller said. "Printing it out now." He stood up and retrieved from the nearby printer, giving it to them. They thanked him and left.

* * *

><p>"It's like we're in a detective novel," Kate commented as she and Gibbs walked across the parking lot toward their car. "A bad one, that is."<p>

Gibbs let out a chuckle. "Even the bad ones have some turns and twists."

"True," Kate conceded. "That still doesn't make them any good, though. Sometimes I wish this case was like a novel. That way, we could skip right to the end to find out the true culprit or culprits."

"Ah, why spoil the enjoyment?" Gibbs said with a smirk as he stepped into the car, plopping onto the driver's seat.

"It's not spoiling your enjoyment as much as it's analyzing all the events and clues that led to the big reveal at the end," Kate pointed out.

"You spoiled yourself, huh?" Gibbs teased as he turned the ignition. Kate shot him a mild glare.

"No, I didn't." A beat. "Okay, maybe a wee bit."

Gibbs laughed as the car raced out of the lot into the street. After what would normally been a ten-minute drive was shortened to a three-minute one, in which Kate let out several squeals and shrieks whenever Gibbs narrowly cut off other vehicles, changed lanes without signaling, ran a stop sign, and nearly rear-ended a police car (the young, inexperienced officer had scampered off when Gibbs gave him the patented Glare).

"I'm never going to get used to your driving," Kate said softly, dazed. Gibbs smirked at her as he stood next to her in the elevator.

"Oh, you'll get used to it, sooner or later."

"Nah, I don't think so," she retorted, snapping out of her daze.

Gibbs' smirk widened. "That's why I said 'later'."

Kate crossed her arms, raising her chin at him. "_Still_."

The impromptu 'staring contest' was broken up when Gibbs and Kate broke down, him into chuckles and her into giggles. As he looked at the brunette, he thought about how he had sorely missed all these in the years after her death the first time around. The banter, the laughs, her feistiness. Not for the first time, he swore to protect his Katie at all costs, to make sure no harm ever came to her. She would definitely shoot him if she heard his thoughts, but still.

The elevator doors opened, and Gibbs strode into the squad room. Three heads in the bullpen turned around.

"Boss, we went to Harris' house," DiNozzo said, standing up from his desk. "Turns out it had been abandoned for years. The last owners – not the Harris family – left three years ago, and the place had been rotting ever since."

"In other words, we were sent on a wild moose chase," Ziva said with a sigh.

"'Goose', Zee-vah, it's 'goose', not moose," DiNozzo corrected, a bemused expression on his face as he sat back down. Ziva rolled her eyes.

"Whatever! It is probably the same thing. You know how hard it is to catch a wild moose?"

"Oh, why don't you go out there and show us how to do that, hmm?" DiNozzo smirked, leaning forward in his desk. Ziva scoffed.

"Oh _puh-leeze_! You would get a rise out of it."

"True, he would," Kate agreed as she sat down at her desk. DiNozzo stared at Ziva in bewilderment.

"How did you get that right _yet _you got the wild goose part wrong?" He muttered, and Ziva squinted slightly at him.

"That's one of life's great mysteries," Gibbs cut in. "If any of you have plans for tonight, cancel them. We've got a lot of work ahead of us."

"Aw, come on, I was looking forward to Halloween—er, cancelling plans, boss!" DiNozzo backtracked when Gibbs gave him a pointed gaze.

"Look on the bright side, DiNozzo, you won't have to worry about getting lost in haunted houses," Kate said cheekily. DiNozzo glared at her.

"I wasn't lost! I was enjoying the authentic Halloween experience!" He protested exasperatedly.

"Sure you were," Gibbs deadpanned. "I want you to continue where you left off, to profile everything on Trott. Do the same for the other alias and Harris, as well, so we cross the t's and dot the i's. After that, you are to run a search on Vincent." Gibbs tossed the file containing Vincent's employment record onto DiNozzo's desk.

"Vincent...?" DiNozzo prompted, picking the folder and reading it.

"Guy who found the body," Gibbs supplied before turning to McGee. "The hotel's sending over some security tapes. Some of the tenth-floor cameras were hacked, but the rest of them were working. Several people entered and left the room where Trott was tortured and killed, but they couldn't be identified from the distance. When they arrive, I want you to analyze them and run a facial recognition search, and get back to Abby on the print—"

"Gibbs! Gibbs! I got it!" Abby called out as she ran into the bullpen.

"You got what, Abs?"

"After much blood, toil, tears, and sweat, I managed to get the Harris guy's true identity!" The forensic scientist grinned widely at them, looking pleased with herself. Gibbs' lips turned up into a smile, his heart welling up with affection and pride.

"Who was he?" DiNozzo asked curiously.

"Alexander Shull, a contract assassin who's racked up at least a dozen of confirmed kills."

Adam Trott, Alexander Shull. Both assassins. This was the closest thing to a coincidence, if he'd believed in them. What was the connection between them, and what about the mysterious figures that were spotted on the cameras?

"Great job, Abs. For that, you get one of these 'Triple Gulps,'" he said. Abby beamed.

"DiNozzo, run a search on Shull, get me everything," Gibbs instructed. "Ziva, contact your friends in Mossad, see if they know anything about these three. Press them for details as hard as possible. Kate, I want you to do the same for the Secret Service, and help DiNozzo and Ziva out if needed be. McGee, check this list out." He gave the probationary agent the list of housekeepers who were on duty on the tenth floor.

The chorus of "Will do, boss" and "On it" was music to Gibbs' ears.


	18. Blasting the Past

**A/N:** Christmas is nearly here! Here's an early gift from me, hope you like. Have a Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays! :)

And thanks for the reviews! I can imagine Ziva actually saying that on the show, lol. The doppelganger couple might make an appearance later on, keep your eyes peeled.

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eighteen:<strong>  
>Blasting the Past<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>"I still can't believe the boss made us stay up all night," a bleary-eyed DiNozzo complained.<p>

Groaning, Kate turned to the Special Agent, who was staring grumpily at the plasma screen. Alexander Shull's profile record was displayed on it, his eyes seemingly taunting them.

"Okay, you've been moaning and whining about this all night. You love Halloween and you missed it, we get it. This might sound alien to you, but we're working on a case. An _active_ case involving two _assassins_."

"Let's not forget one among us," DiNozzo mumbled under his breath.

"I heard that," Ziva piped in, fixing the Special Agent a glare.

"With your superhuman hearing, I'm not surprised," DiNozzo retorted.

"You know, I still do not get your, um, _fascination_ with Halloween. It is only grown-up men dressing up in some silly clothes and parading around for candies during the night." Ziva gestured all over her body. "Oh, and get stuck in houses. I mean, what makes Halloween special? And how do you make houses haunted? It is just a bunch of strange decorations." She cocked her head, furrowing her brow curiously.

"Did you really just ask that—nevermind, I kinda forgot you're not from around here," DiNozzo said sarcastically. Ziva narrowed her eyes at him.

"Uh-oh, I think I know that look," McGee remarked. "She looks like she can kill in a myriad of painful ways."

"One of them involving nothing but a pumpkin," Ziva said with a sly grin, making Kate raise her eyebrows. "And not what you think."

"You don't wanna know what I can do with pumpkin _seeds_, Ziver," Gibbs interjected, walking into the bullpen with coffee at hand, his eyes trained on the plasma. "What have we got?"

"Boss, our suspect, Shull—" DiNozzo began to say, but was cut off.

"—was linked to at least five unsolved homicides in the past three years, many which happened in several places around the world, with possibly more unaccounted for," Ziva piped up, and Gibbs had to suppress a smirk at the look of daggers DiNozzo was shooting at her. "He was born in Pittsburgh, but his family constantly moved around."

"Which explains his international prowess," Kate said.

Gibbs took a sip of his coffee. "Anything else?"

"I managed to get some leads from my contacts in Mossad," Ziva responded. "It might not help much, but—"

"Anything is better than nothing," Gibbs cut in. Ziva nodded.

"Shull was allegedly involved in the assassination attempt on the Israeli Prime Minister back in 2001. Although Mossad was unable to ascertain his involvement for sure, they nevertheless kept an eye on him – though he had been getting good at giving them the slip. We suspect that he might have been building and maintaining contacts in the United States and other countries, although with what or who remains unknown. They didn't know anything about Trott, though, but they're working on that."

"And not to mention, Shull might have—" DiNozzo began saying.

"—been in contact with Al-Qaeda," Kate interjected, ignoring DiNozzo's glare as she read the folder. "In early 2003, the Secret Service uncovered a possible assassination plot against President Bush. Shull's name popped up, but at that time, we couldn't find anything definitive to tie him with anything. It wasn't until after the Air Force One incident that we found that he had been communicating with Leonard Rish, who was a member of Al Qaeda. This isn't anything definitive, but it's a start."

Gibbs nodded, his mind taking him back to that day. It was when he'd met Kate for the first time, when she was a Secret Service agent. He felt his lips curl into a smile as he remembered that she had consistently locked horns with him over jurisdiction, even threatening to shoot him at one point. She was unlike anyone who he had ever met, and made much an impression on him (and he wasn't easily impressed) that he'd all but offered her a position in NCIS after the incident. It was the best damn decision he'd ever made in his life.

Blinking out of his thoughts, he found her looking at him. Her eyes looked wistful, and she had a soft smile on her face. His gut churned.

"What did you find, DiNozzo?" Gibbs turned to the Special Agent, who looked like his long-awaited moment had arrived at last.

"As I was saying before I was so _rudely_ interrupted," DiNozzo replied, leveling Kate and Ziva a pointed glare. "I did a search on Shull's records, and it turns out he had several offshore accounts, one which was located in Switzerland under an alias named Adrian Maeve. A couple of weeks ago, he received a large payment of a million dollars from what appears to be a proxy account located here in the US, and apparently had the money distributed among his accounts."

DiNozzo paused for a beat before continuing.

"As for Trott, his financial records appeared to be normal, save for a large cash deposit that was placed into his account six months ago. He owned a small business, and I thought at first it was a cover for his clandestine activities. Turns out there was the usual stuff, like deposits and withdrawals. Nothing out of the ordinary. Strange, isn't it?"

"Get on with it, DiNozzo," Gibbs said impatiently. DiNozzo nodded.

"Anyways, Ernest was a Chief petty officer born and raised in Richmond who eventually moved to Alexandria. Served on several ships, including the USS _John F. Kennedy_. Ah, JFK. Great president."

"Yeah, he's practically your role model," Kate said sarcastically.

"Although when I dug deeper," DiNozzo continued, ignoring Kate. "I found that Robert Ernest was an actual person who served as a Lieutenant Commander abroad – wait for it – the _John F. Kennedy_ by the time he died last year. I'd call it a coincidence, but I know how you feel about them, boss."

"Still don't believe in them," Gibbs said, sipping his coffee.

"Trott maintained a cover account under Ernest's name. The alias, not the deceased Lieutenant Commander, by the way," DiNozzo clarified. "It appears that he didn't use it very much."

"He was freelance," Gibbs said. "What about Vincent McGrath?"

"I didn't find much," DiNozzo admitted, sounding slightly sheepish. "Everything we have on him was from the hotel employment record."

"Actually, I might have found something on him," McGee spoke up, working on his computer. "I analyzed the tapes and although I couldn't get a lock on most of their faces – they kept their faces away from the cameras – I managed to get enough vectors on two of them to run a facial recognition search."

A video screenshot popped up on the screen. It depicted a man in a maintenance suit walking through the basement corridor. A profile appeared a second later, next to the screenshot. It showed a thin, pale young man with long, scraggy hair. "Name's Thomas Hollihan. He received a Bachelor of Science in Computer Science at Yale, and a Masters in Electrical Engineering at MIT."

"In other words, he's a hacker," Gibbs said.

McGee nodded. "He might be the one behind the hacking attack on the security cameras. His finances indicates that he had been spending quite a bit of money on electronics. You know, the stuff you can find in electronic stores in the DC metropolitan area."

"Well, well, it seems we've got another geek here," DiNozzo cracked. McGee shook his head while Kate and Ziva rolled their eyes.

"Who's the other one?" Gibbs nodded toward the plasma. With a click, the screen split up. Two images appeared, one a screenshot of a hotel staff worker pushing a large laundry cart through the same corridor, and one a profile of a slightly stocky man in his mid-thirties, with what one might describe as 'crazy eyes'.

For some reason, Gibbs felt a strange twinge in his gut as he looked at the picture. There was something familiar about that guy, like he had seen him before. But where and when?

"His name's Henry Spivey. Has a pretty long rap sheet. He was arrested and charged for the rape and murder of a Navy lieutenant in 1999. He escaped from prison in 2002, though, and currently has an outstanding warrant for his arrest," McGee said. "He's basically a hired thug, had been working for whoever pays him the best, if the payment he received recently is any indication."

He paused to take a breath. "As for the housekeepers on the fourth floor, I cross-referenced them using the hotel's dossiers. All except one on the list checked out. That one, Matthew Kaminsky, basically had Spivey's picture on it, so something clearly wasn't right there. Spivey might have impersonated Kaminsky and made sure none of the other crew members entered that particular room, and reported as such to the hotel's management."

"You know," Ziva spoke up, looking at the plasma thoughtfully. "It seems to me that they were all working together. Then something went tragically wrong."

"Yeah, Trott got whacked," Gibbs said, going to his desk. "The question is: who did it?"

"It's either Shull or Spivey," Kate said. "They have the prowess, and apparently the will, to do what they did to him."

"Or both." Ziva added.

DiNozzo nodded slowly, rubbing his chin. "I'd put my money on the Spivey guy. He's got these crazy eyes."

"Do you think it has anything to do with the boathouse that Trott had been frequenting?" McGee spoke up.

"That's what we're going to find out," Gibbs replied. "McGee, get a warrant."

"On it." McGee turned to his computer.

* * *

><p>"Why does she get to call shotgun every time?" DiNozzo muttered as he sat, cooped, in the back of the Dodge Intrepid.<p>

"The better question would be: why do I have to sit next to you every time we go out?" Ziva asked, an annoyed expression on her face. "And do not make jokes about that!"

"Trust me, that's the last thing I want to do—_AHH_!" the Special Agent let out a startled yell as Gibbs made a sharp left turn through the intersection.

"Well, if you don't want to sit in the back, there's always the trunk," Kate said sweetly as she turned to look at him from the front passenger seat. Gibbs let out a chuckle as he weaved through traffic.

"Or the top of the car," he quipped, making Kate giggle. DiNozzo looked at them with narrowed eyes.

"I hear the trunk's quite comfy there," McGee piped up with a smirk. Kate and Ziva sniggered, while DiNozzo leaned slightly to glare at the probationary agent around Ziva. "You're going in there on the ride back, McTrunk," he warned.

"Not if I have anything to say about that," Gibbs said as he barely managed to stop at the stop sign on a stretch of road leading toward the Potomac waterfront.

"I, for one, think it would be interesting to see DiNozzo cling to the top of the car for his life," Ziva said with a smirk.

"That makes the two of us," Kate grinned.

Moments later, the Dodge hurtled into a paved lot near the boathouse, screeching to an abrupt halt.

"We're here," Gibbs announced as he got out of the car, followed by Kate and the others. The boathouse resembled a Gothic-style barn, with sloping roofs and red sliding doors. A long cedar pier connected the boathouse to the shore. He could see a small sailboat moored at one of two dock slips that jutted from the pier.

He noticed another car parked nearby, a black 2004 Continental GT. The sight of the sleek car caused his gut to churn in warning, and he cautiously made his way down the pier. Gesturing for DiNozzo and McGee to go around the side of the boathouse, through its dock, while he made his way toward the front door on the pier-side, Kate and Ziva in tow.

He knocked loudly on the front door. "NCIS! We'd like to talk to you!" No one responded, although Gibbs swore he could hear something from somewhere inside the house. Just when he was about to knock again, he heard DiNozzo yell out in the distance, followed by a rapid barrage of bullets from inside the house.

Instinctively, he grabbed his Sig Sauer and took position next to the door, looking at Kate. With a nod, he stepped back and kicked the door in, entering what appeared to be a boat garage. A small Sunseeker yacht was floating there. Without pausing, he made his way toward the staircase that led to the upper floor, keeping a vigilant eye.

Cautiously ascending the stairs, he instinctively jerked his head down as part of the wall exploded from behind him. Raising his Sig, he returned fire, Kate doing the same. He could hear cursing ahead of him, and his eyes widened in recognition. Reloading his Sig, he locked eyes with Ziva; she nodded before she climbed the rest of the stairs and opened fire, giving him an opening to enter the upper floor, which he promptly did.

Sliding into cover behind the nearest sofa, Gibbs braced himself before popping out and opening fire. When he ran out, he returned to cover and reloaded as Kate opened fire from her position near the staircase. They were perfectly in sync, providing suppressing fire while the other reloaded.

"Come out, Shull!" Gibbs called out, and his response was a burst of gunfire. Keeping low, he made his way alongside the couch, trying to get a bearing on the assailant's position. Apparently, Shull was behind one of two open doorways toward the back of the room, which led to another room there.

"We've got you surrounded!" Gibbs yelled again. "Come out with your hands up!"

"All right! All right! I'll come out!" Shull yelled out. Gibbs held his hand up; Kate and Ziva stopped firing, using this respite to reload their weapons. An AK-47 was tossed out of the room, sliding across the floor. Shull himself emerged out of cover a moment later, his hands held above his head.

"Well, it appears you finally got me," Shull said with a chuckle, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. "You guys are pretty good at this stuff."

Although Shull was apparently surrendering, something felt off. There was no way that a professional assassin like Shull would readily give himself up like that, and so easily. His gut feeling confirmed this. Tightening his grip on his Sig, Gibbs slowly stood up and cautiously approached Shull.

Suddenly, another person appeared in the second doorway.

Before he could even raise his Sig, he felt something strike his upper chest area several times, gunshots ringing in his ears. Although he was, thankfully, wearing a body armor beneath his suit and overcoat, he felt like he was being pummeled hard by several aluminum bats at the same time, with enough force to send him falling backwards. He didn't hear Kate and Ziva's frantic screams, or the subsequent gunshots, as he fell to the ground, his Sig slipping out of his hands.

Landing hard on his back, he involuntarily let out a pained wheeze and struggled to take a breath, feeling like his lungs were constricting painfully – nevermind the pain that flared whenever he took a breath. He blinked rapidly, seeing stars dance above his eyes, as his chest heaved.

To think that he had almost forgotten what it was like to be shot, even wearing a bulletproof vest, he thought to himself dazedly. The last time he checked, that was in 2015, right before he was captured by Mishnev in a surprise raid against his house. That felt like a long time ago.

Another thought popped in his mind: was that what Kate had felt when she intercepted the shots on that rooftop the first time around?

Before his thoughts could progress any further, he felt someone kneel by his side, tear his overcoat open, and heard them exhale with sheer relief. Groaning, he turned his head to see concerned hazel eyes peer into his. He could see her lips move, but barely heard anything come out of them. He blinked hard, taking several more breaths, the pain subsiding a bit. Kate and Ziva were leaning over him.

"Are you okay, Jethro?" Kate asked, her face close to his. He could see fear, worry, and concern in her eyes. The same went for Ziva.

"I just got shot at point-blank range, Katie," he wheezed out, mustering pretty much all his strength to crack a half-smile. "I'll live." Right that moment, he felt some déjà vu come through him.

Kate gave him a mild glare, although her lips twitched. "You better."

When he tried to get up, she gently put her hands on his shoulders to keep him down. "Don't get up, it'll only hurt," she said soothingly, and Ziva nodded in agreement.

"No pain, no gain," he replied, causing Kate to grin and shake her head.

"Of course," she said as she began carefully extracting the flattened bullets from the vest.

"What happened?" He heard DiNozzo's voice, and turned his head slightly to see the Special Agent crouch by his side. McGee was nearby, looking surprised and concerned.

"Shull pretended to surrender, and had Hollihan ambush him at plank range," Ziva replied, looking slightly pissed off as she glanced at the bullet-riddled corpses of the two aforementioned men.

"Point-blank range, Ziva," DiNozzo corrected half-heartedly, not seeing the surprised looks on Kate, Ziva, and McGee's faces. In the past several months, DiNozzo had very rarely referred to Ziva by her given name, preferring 'Zee-vah', 'Dah-veed', 'Zee-veed', and and whatever terms he could think of.

"Are you okay, boss?" DiNozzo asked, and despite the pain, Gibbs gave him a pointed look.

"What do you think, DiNozzo?" He groused. DiNozzo closed his eyes, as if in realization that he'd asked a very stupid question.

"I'm assuming you're not going to the gym tomorrow?" He asked in an attempt to lighten up the mood. Although he was overcome with déjà vu once again, Gibbs looked over at Kate and gave a curt nod.

_Whap!_

"Ow! What was that for, Kate?" DiNozzo growled, glaring at the brunette.

Not one to back down, Kate leveled a glare right back at the Special Agent. "You know perfectly what it was for, DiObvious!"

DiNozzo was about to make a sharp retort, but he wisely clammed up upon seeing Gibbs' glare. His eyes vowed vengeance, though.

Once the pain had faded to a dull throbbing sensation, Gibbs made to get up, letting out a soft groan as he raised himself onto his elbows. Immediately, he felt Kate and Ziva's arms envelop him and gently shore him up. They grabbed his arms and put them around their respective shoulders as they carefully pulled him to his feet.

The scents of strawberry, vanilla, and incense drifted across his nose, and he involuntarily took a breath, swearing that the dull pain subsided further.

* * *

><p>He could do it. He would. He had to.<p>

Gibbs gritted his teeth for the umpteenth time as he continued running the sander over one of the ribs of the wooden skeleton that would have become a finished, polished boat to be taken to a clearing somewhere outside DC and burned down in the original timeline.

_No pain, no gain_, he mentally chanted to himself as his broken and bruised ribs let out painful screams with every exertion he made. Pain was only weakness leaving the body.

He should make that a rule.

A part of his subconscious mused that he was a masochist, through and through, not only in the pain that he was almost deliberately causing to himself, but the despair that he had suffered after losing Shannon and Kelly, the emotional torment (and at times physical abuse) he had suffered in his previous three marriages, and the shattering anguish that he had suffered in the loss of his Katie the first time around.

His mind recalled his return to NCIS Headquarters two days earlier. Kate and Ziva were particularly insistent that he get a medical check-up. After he'd stubbornly refused, saying that he was fine and that he didn't need to see a doctor, they'd brought Abby in. He'd given in right there and then, and reluctantly submitted himself to Ducky's scrutinizing eyes, with Kate, Ziva, _and_ Abby acting as lookout so he wouldn't try to run away. In the end, the good doctor had told him that he had two broken ribs and several bruised ones, and prescribed several days' rest and acetaminophen.

Of course, being himself, he continued going to work, to the growing exasperation of Kate, Ziva, and Ducky. Particularly Kate. His lips quirked into a smirk as he recalled her words earlier today.

"Damn it, Gibbs! Do I have to drag you home and get you in bed myself?" Kate had snapped before she realized what she'd said. He had cocked his head and smirked as she began to blush and stutter. "If that does the trick, then yeah," he'd quipped before leaving the bullpen so she couldn't shoot him or something.

He was thankful that DiNozzo had gone to the restroom at that time. Otherwise, he would've joined Shull and Hollihan in Autopsy.

After blowing the accumulated sawdust off the rib and feeling it with his fingers, Gibbs resumed his work until the pain in his ribs became too great for even him to bear. With a soft sigh, he tossed the sander away and walked over to one of the tables near the back of the basement, grabbing his Kentucky bourbon and pouring it into his mug.

It was his acetaminophen.

"You shouldn't be doing this, you know."

He nearly choked on his bourbon at the soft voice that wafted across the basement. Turning around, he saw Kate near the top of the stairs. How had he not heard her enter the house, much less feel her presence? It seemed that she was the only one who could do that to him. Whenever the others entered the house, he always knew. Pasting a half-smile on his face, Gibbs lifted his mug.

"Oh, this?" He said cheekily. Kate gave him a look, her lips curling slightly into a grin.

"You know what I mean," she said as she began descending the stairs. Gibbs shrugged.

"It does a hell of a job than these pills."

"That's not what I meant," Kate pointed as she walked over to the crafting table where the skeletal boat lay on, admiring it.

Gibbs took a long sip – he'd long become immune to the mind-rending effects of 125 proof alcohol – gazing at the brunette agent.

"It relaxes me," he said simply. Kate turned to him, an eyebrow raised.

"Even if it causes you great pain?" He could see her glance at his chest, particularly ribs.

"Pain is weakness leaving the body," Gibbs said with a shrug. Kate let out a snort.

"Only you would say that," she remarked with a shake of the head, walking over to him. "Got a spare mug?"

Gibbs' reply was to smile at her before turning and retrieving a mason jar from the nearby shelf that doubled as a cupboard. "I only have one mug, Fornell accidentally dropped it last week," Gibbs explained, remembering the look on the FBI Special Agent's face after the mug somehow slipped out of his hands and shattered on the floor.

Kate shrugged. "It'll have to do." Gibbs nodded as he filled a quarter of the jar and passed it on. "Don't forget to sip it. That stuff is 125 proof."

"I can handle it," Kate said with a smirk, a challenging glint in her eye.

"Never said you couldn't handle it," Gibbs countered. Kate's response was to widen her grin before sipping her drink. Gibbs had to give her credit when she didn't immediately spit the liquid out like the others had, although she did scrunch her face up.

As he watched the bourbon slowly swirl around in his mug, then the unfinished husk in front of them, certain memories filled his mind. Over five months earlier, he had been working on the boat in 2015, wallowing in sorrowful silence as he reflected his life choices on the tenth anniversary of his greatest failure. Glancing at Kate, who likewise seemed to be in thought, Gibbs not for the first time thanked whatever deity that was up there for giving him this second chance to rectify things. Because of that, his Katie was here with him instead of lying in a casket in Indianapolis.

"I've been wondering something," Kate's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Shoot." He couldn't help but wonder what she wanted to ask him about.

"How do you get the boat out of the basement?"

Gibbs inclined his head, his lips slowly turning into a smirk. "Good question, Katie. I wonder about that sometimes."

Kate stared at him. "Jethro."

"Ah...you know how they put model ships into bottles?" At Kate's nod, he continued: "And how they get them _out_?"

"By smashing them?" Kate looked serious, but the twinkle in her eye gave her away.

Gibbs laughed as he sipped his bourbon. "Well, that's your answer, Katie."

Kate nodded slowly as she looked at him. "So...basically you take it apart, bring them out of the house, and reassemble them?"

Gibbs couldn't help but be impressed with her deductive thinking. It was quite a hell of a profiler in her. "That's a possibility," he replied vaguely. Kate pushed away from the table and walked over to the unfinished boat.

"This is quite impressive," she commented, glancing at Gibbs. "How do you do it?"

Gibbs put his hands up, wiggling his fingers. "With these."

Kate chuckled. "That's not what I meant, silly," she said. Gibbs decided to humor her a bit.

"Well, I purchase plenty of wood supplies from the general store," he explained matter-of-factly as he walked over to the crafting table. "Then I sketch outlines on the wood sheets and begin sawing them into designated pieces. That takes several weeks, of course, and I proceed to—"

"Jethro."

Gibbs picked the sander up. "When you're constructing a boat or whatever stuff that catches your fancy, you want to make sure the surface is smooth, and I really mean smooth. And you want to make sure the sand paper is of good quality, you want to smooth out the rough edges pretty good," He proceeded to demonstrate it to her by running the sander over one of the ribs a couple of times, ignoring the pangs of pain from his ribs, and gently brushed away the sawdust. "Wanna try it?" he held out the sander to her.

"On you?" she said cheekily. Gibbs laughed.

Kate grinned as she took it and placed it against the grain of the wood. "Like this?"

Gibbs wordlessly put his hands over hers and slightly adjusted them so that they were facing in the proper direction. As he looked into her eyes, he was overcome with a particularly strong urge to get behind her, put his arms around her, and give her a hands-on demonstration.

Clenching his jaw, he shook it away, removing his hands from her, ignoring his protesting gut. For some reason, she looked...disappointed? Gibbs didn't know. It was probably the trick of the light.

"I think you'd be good at this stuff," he commented several moments later as he observed Kate sand the rib. He tried not to think of how she looked right there, bending over the boat and moving back and forth—

"Only because I learned from the best," she gave him a teasing grin as she gently wiped the sawdust away. He felt something stir down there and looked at other parts of the boat, picking up and draining the rest of his bourbon.

After several more moments, Kate put the sander down and turned to him, giving him an appraising look. "I really meant it when I said you shouldn't be doing this. You should get some rest."

Gibbs couldn't help it. "You gonna get me in bed?" Kate blushed.

"I swear you're as bad as DiNozzo!" she muttered.

Gibbs chuckled as he went back to the other table and refilled his mug.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** To clear up any confusion, here's the list of the victim, suspects, and their aliases:

Adam Trott: Donald Sullivan/Robert Ernest  
>Alexander Shull: Sean HarrisAdrian Maeve  
>Thomas Hollihan: Vincent McGrath.<p>

Also, forgive me if things seem...contrived or implausible in this chapter.


	19. The Past Under Covers

**A/N:** Hope you had a great Christmas and New Year's! Can you believe it's 2015 now?

Also, I did some research and found out that Gibbs lives in Alexandria, VA, not DC. I've edited some of my chapters accordingly, along with other things. Ain't research grand?

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. I don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Under Covers" (3.08), even although most of them have been altered to fit this story. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nineteen:<strong>  
>The Past Under Covers<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p><em>November 7, 2005<em>  
><em>7:03 AM<em>  
><em>NCIS Headquarters<em>  
><em>Washington, D.C.<em>

"You called for me, Jen?" Gibbs said, striding into the office, having ignored the protests of the secretary, Cynthia Sumner, as he passed through her office unannounced as usual.

His cell had rang the moment he entered the squad room. "Jethro, my office now" was Jenny's simple command, and Gibbs thought it was one of these moments his former lover tried to assert her authority over him. Tried being the key word.

Judging from her clipped tone, he had this feeling that something was afoot. That feeling intensified with each step he took up the stairs and into the Director's office.

Jenny turned her head from the computer monitor, a small smile quirking her lips. "As a matter of fact, I did." There were two identical file folders on her desk, each having the red 'TOP-SECRET' classification stamp on them. "Do you know what these are, Jethro?" she inquired, gesturing at them with her hands.

Gibbs simply gave her a look, although the feeling intensified further at the sight of these folders. Something about them felt strangely familiar, as if he had seen them before. As the feeling began setting into the pit of his stomach, Gibbs began wondering if it had something to do with the last case.

"You tell me, Madam Director," Gibbs replied, causing Jenny to smirk.

"Happy to, Jethro." She opened one of the folders. "I was informed by SecNav about a strange event that occurred a few days ago." His gut began coiling as something began to dawn upon him. "It isn't something that would normally fall under NCIS's jurisdiction. I'll let you have a look at the files."

Gibbs stepped forward and retrieved one of the folder, flipping it open. His eyes widened as realization hit him with full force. Staring back at him was the photograph of a strong-jawed man in his late thirties with cold, penetrating eyes. Jean-Paul Ranier.

Memories began flashing through his mind in rapid succession, all of them pertaining to the Ranier case that had taken place a decade earlier, the first time around. How did he not see that before? Gibbs flipped to the next profile. A beautiful brunette looked at him from her profile record. Sophie Ranier.

It finally made sense, the circumstances surrounding the grisly murder of Adam Trott, a freelance assassin who masqueraded as a Navy lieutenant, and the confrontation with suspects Alexander Shull and Thomas Hollihan at the boathouse. In gist, the involvement of assassins should've been a dead giveaway, no pun intended.

As the MCRT's investigation indicated, the three men were merely lackeys, probably acting under the orders of someone who had been calling the shots from the shadows the whole time. And he knew who it was.

Marcos Siazon, a ruthless contract assassin who had ordered the deaths of the Raniers.

"Judging from the look on your face, I daresay you know who it is," Jenny's voice broke through Gibbs' thoughts and he blinked back to reality.

"Yeah. Jean-Paul Ranier, Canadian contract assassin who racked up over fifty kills alone," he said, skimming over the profile records before looking up at her. "His reputation preceded him. The same goes for his wife, Sophie."

Jenny nodded, looking slightly impressed. "Indeed. The wife killed over twenty-five people as well," she commented, opening the file containing Sophie's case documents. "They were killed in a car accident outside of Kuwait International Airport two days ago." She pulled a paper out of the file and gave it to him. "Their bodies are on the way here as we speak, and should be arriving shortly."

"So why call NCIS in?" Gibbs feigned ignorance as he read the accident report. Apparently, the car's engines were tampered to have the car skyrocket to full-speed once it exceeded a certain speed (five mph), the steering wheel to lock up, and the brakes disabled. The airbags were removed as well, if the descriptions were anything to go by.

"Marine CID found two fake US passports, two first-class tickets for Washington, DC, and reservations at the Barclay through November tenth in their luggage," Jenny replied.

The Marines Corps' birthday, Gibbs thought to himself.

"They probably were planning to carry out a hit on someone at the Marine Corps Ball," he said. "Especially when top military leaders, Congressmen, and agency directors are attending there."

"Including me," Jenny said, her lips curling into a smile. Gibbs returned it with a half-smirk.

"Ah, why make yourself a target, Jen?"

Jenny chuckled. "I'm already a target, being the Director and all."

Gibbs cocked his head as he tossed the folder back onto the desk. "You'll be fine, you were a damn good agent back then," he remarked, watching a blush slowly creep up her neck.

"Yes, especially when I learned from the best," Jenny bantered.

"Someone had to show you the ropes on undercover ops," Gibbs said with a casual shrug, smirking at the deepening blush on the Director's face.

"The point is," Jenny said, sounding slightly flustered as she straightened in her chair. "The Raniers were clearly up to something, but were killed before they could carry it out. It appears what whoever contacted them doesn't know about it, or at least not yet, so we have to find a way to complete their mission."

"Let me guess: you want two of our agents here in NCIS to impersonate them."

"You are correct," Jenny said, standing up. "And I think I might have found the candidates for this job."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows, knowing perfectly who they were.

Jenny simply gave him a smirk as she retrieved the folders and walked toward the door. Gibbs followed Jenny out of the office, ignoring Cynthia's reproachful glare. He could see Kate raise her head as he descended the stairs; his eyes connected with hers for a moment.

"Special Agent DiNozzo, Agent Todd, and Liaison Officer David, conference room please," Jenny instructed formally as she passed through the bullpen. Gibbs raised his eyebrows as he followed her, the aforementioned agents getting up from their desks and trailing after him.

DiNozzo and Ziva, he expected. But Kate? He wondered about the reason behind her inclusion, and wasn't sure if he would like it.

They entered a medium-sized room with a boat-shaped conference table ringed with black leather chairs. A speakerphone was on the middle of the table. Jenny took a seat at the head, placing the folders on the table, while Gibbs closed the door behind him.

"Have a seat, please," Jenny said. Kate, Ziva, and DiNozzo did so, although Gibbs opted to remain standing.

"Now that we're all here, let's begin," Jenny started, looking at the three agents. "The reason you're all here is that you are to participate in a special operation."

"Special operation?" DiNozzo repeated the Director's words, sounding intrigued.

The Director nodded. "That's what I just said, DiNozzo. Two days ago, a couple was killed in a car accident in Kuwait International Airport. Only that they weren't a regular one: they were professional assassins, responsible for over seventy kills altogether."

"Wow, that's a lot," DiNozzo breathed out, his eyes wide with shock. Kate likewise looked surprised, while Ziva had a stoic expression on her face.

"Indeed. Their names were Jean-Paul and Sophie Ranier, both Canadian citizens. They had quite a bit of a reputation, if not for the number of successful hits, then for their considerable skills and resources they had at their disposal. Among the resources the Marine CID found were fake US passports, first-class plane tickets to DC, and reservations for the Barclay." The Director paused for this to sink in.

"I assume it has something to do with the Marine Corps ball that's scheduled three days from today," Kate said. Gibbs couldn't help but smirk at her deduction skills, not seeing Jenny give him a glance.

"You would be correct, Agent Todd," Jenny said with a nod. "Their reservations were, indeed, scheduled through the tenth. Given that a large number of government and military officials, from military leaders to agency directors, will be attending, we figure that the Raniers were planning to assassinate somebody there – only that we don't know who it is."

Gibbs knew, all right. The Raniers weren't contacted to perform a hit; they themselves were the hit.

"What about their contact? Do they know about their deaths?" Ziva asked.

"I doubt it, given that we've been keeping a tight lid on the news of their deaths," Gibbs replied. "We believe that the contact's expecting the Raniers to contact them once they'd got here in DC."

"They would've hired someone else already if they had known about the Raniers, though," Jenny pointed out. "We want to maintain an advantage over whoever who put out the contact. That is why you're all here: to make that contact and find the person or people behind all this."

"In other words, two of you are gonna impersonate Jean-Paul and Sophia Ranier," Gibbs clarified, ignoring the coiling sensation in his gut.

"So...I'm going undercover," DiNozzo mumbled, a look of excitement slowly coming across his face. "And I get to pick my wife—"

_Whap!_

"Ow! Sorry boss!" DiNozzo hastily said, ignoring the disapproving glares Kate and Ziva were giving him. Jenny, however, had a faintly bemused expression on her face.

"Yes, DiNozzo, you get to pick your wife," Jenny smirked. Gibbs shot her an unamused look. She shrugged.

"I'm out," Kate said, standing up.

"That goes for me as well." Ziva did the same. Gibbs couldn't contain his smirk as he glanced at DiNozzo.

"Ladies, this is a very important undercover operation," Jenny spoke up firmly, fixing them a pointed stare. "Whatever your personal feelings about DiNozzo, you will have to work with him to ensure that this mission succeeds."

"With all due respect, Madam Director," Kate began, still standing, her eyes resolute. "I doubt I'll be able to successfully pretend to be his wife for even a single night without shooting him before the operation's over."

"Hey! I'm not that bad," DiNozzo protested. The brunette scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Given the way they…_interact_ with each other, we wouldn't want to blow it before it even begins," Gibbs remarked mildly, ignoring the scandalized expression on DiNozzo's face.

"Suppose one of us—" Ziva gesticulated between herself and Kate. "—agree to become DiNozzo's pretend..._wife_, what should we have to do?" The Israeli looked like it physically hurt to even utter the words 'DiNozzo' and 'wife' in the same sentence.

There was a twinkle in Jenny's eyes, and Gibbs didn't like it one bit. "Whatever a married couple does, you can ask Gibbs about it." She grabbed one of the files and began thumbing it. "This file doesn't say very much about their private lives, but I wouldn't be surprised if they were..._active_, so to put it." Both Kate and Ziva looked outright nauseated.

"That has to be cruel and unusual punishment," the ex-Mossad ninja muttered.

"It is," Kate agreed.

"It's only for a couple of nights," DiNozzo said with a roll of the eyes. "And besides, you'll see that I would make an excellent husband." He accentuated the point with a wide, award-winning smile. "C'mon! It's a covert op! The kind of stuff you see in spy thriller movies, like James Bond—"

"I don't care," Kate cut him off. "If you think I'm gonna get close and personal with you, you have another thing coming!"

"That goes for me as well," Ziva nodded in agreement. Jenny sighed.

"And we're back to square one," she mumbled, glancing at Gibbs.

"Women, you can't win them all," he said with a shrug, eliciting snorts from Kate, Ziva, and Jenny.

"Figures you'd say that," Jenny said, shaking her head before turning to the two women. "So...which of you want to take the plunge?"

"I'd like to plunge a knife in him, very much..." Ziva muttered. Gibbs let out a chuckle.

"Uh, don't I have a choice in this?" DiNozzo asked, glancing between Kate and Ziva. "If so, I'd like—"

"DiNozzo..." Gibbs growled. The Special Agent wisely shut up.

Jenny let out a sigh. "Let's move on to the operation itself. As Gibbs here said, two of you will pretend to be Jean-Paul and Sophie Ranier as to ascertain the identity of your mysterious contact. You will check into the Barclay tomorrow, at four in the evening. Understand, though, that you'll be in the 'dark' at first. Figuratively speaking, of course," the Director said with a furtive glance at Gibbs.

"Given the tight schedule that we're on, two of you will have to get your act together while we establish contact with you," Jenny continued. "Keep Rule 43 in mind." Gibbs rolled his eyes at Jenny's recitation of one of his rules.

"Always assume we're always watched," Kate recited, glancing at Gibbs.

"Right. You'll have to maintain the act for the time being, while we surreptitiously set things up at your hotel room. McGee will pretend to be a hotel waiter—" Jenny was interrupted by DiNozzo's snort of laughter.

"Sorry, the thought of McProbie in a waiter uniform—er, nevermind," the Special Agent said hastily at Jenny's raised eyebrows and Gibbs' penetrating glare.

"—and place hidden surveillance equipment in the hotel room at a later time, once it's deemed secure enough. You'll have to get there first, though. We can't risk blowing your cover early on." Right at this moment, Gibbs remembered that two FBI agents were sent to surveil them from their hotel across the Barclay, which he now realized was the Continental.

How had he not noticed that?

"Once again, it's kind of last-minute, but I have confidence in all of you." The Director gave them a confident smile. Gibbs shared a glance with Kate, who smiled warmly at him.

"Now...there's one last thing to do," Jenny continued, giving them a pointed look. "DiNozzo will play the husband, for obvious reasons. Which one of you will play the wife?"

A chorus of "Not me" from the two woman made Jenny sigh wearily.

"It's gonna take all day, isn't it?" she muttered, turning to Gibbs, who laughed.

"Oh yeah."

* * *

><p>"It is <em>completely<em> unfair!"

Gibbs turned from his computer monitor to Ziva, who was sulking behind her desk, her shoulders hunched up, a scowl etched on her face.

DiNozzo was grinning widely, his eyes gleaming triumphantly. "Well...that's what happens when you pick rock over paper, my dear," he drawled. McGee shook his head at the Special Agent's antics before giving Ziva a sympathetic gaze.

"How was I to know that paper beats rock?" the Israeli threw her hands up. "Paper is thin and flimsy, rock is sturdy and hard. It should tear right through the paper!"

He was still figuring out how DiNozzo managed to get his way, through a game of rock-paper-scissors, and how Jenny of all people accepted it. It was mind-boggling.

"Welcome to America, Sophie," DiNozzo drawled, leaning back in his chair, a smug smile on his face. "But don't worry, I'll be _gentle_ with you." He winked at the last part.

"You'd _better_, DiNozzo," Gibbs interjected before a snarling Ziva could pounce on the Special Agent and tear his 'paper' with her 'rock'. DiNozzo nodded, looking a bit deflated.

"Of course..." he mumbled, sitting up.

"It's only for a couple of nights, Ziva," Kate reassured soothingly. "You can kill him afterwards."

"That is easy for you to say. You do not have to have pretend sexual intercourse with him in a hotel room," Ziva grumbled as she placed her forehead on her desk.

"You can still castrate him if he tries anything else, though," Gibbs commented casually as he turned to his monitor, not seeing a frightened expression slowly cross DiNozzo's face.

Ziva raised her head, her eyes beginning to gleam. "Really?"

Gibbs nodded. "Gave you permission to maim him a while back, remember? And besides, some couples don't even have a 'wedding night.'"

Kate smirked. "Speaking from experience, Special Agent Gibbs?"

Seeing the twinkle in the brunette's eyes, Gibbs was about to make a reply when his cell rang.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

"Jethro, could you come down to Autopsy, please? I have been called here to perform an autopsy on the two bodies that have just arrived here. I have been told that it is an urgent priority."

Gibbs nodded. "On my way, Duck." He flipped the cell closed, giving Kate a half-smirk as he stood up from his desk, picked the file folder from Ziva's desk, and walked out of the bullpen, heading toward the elevator.

As soon as he entered the elevator, he was surprised when Kate slid through the closing doors and stood next to him, giving him a smile.

"Didn't want to hear any more of DiNozzo's inane bragging," she answered his silent question. He raised his eyebrows, and she continued: "And with any luck, she'll kill him by the time we get back."

"Then there'll be no operation," Gibbs quipped.

"Well, you could step in," Kate pointed out.

Gibbs chuckled, glancing at her. "I'm too old for that kind of stuff." Kate turned to him.

"Gibbs, you're not too old, and you will never be," she admonished.

"I suppose," he rumbled. Truth be told, Gibbs was glad that Kate didn't have to go through with this. He didn't know what he would've done if she had been required to go over to the hotel with DiNozzo and pretend to be his wife. Do stuff that married couples did, like kissing, fondling, having—

His gut clenched painfully at that thought as a certain feeling welled up in his chest, and with great effort, he shook it off. The elevator bounced to a gently stop, and Gibbs entered Autopsy. Ducky was dressed in a sharp tuxedo dress, complete with a black bowtie that made him greatly resemble the fictional Russian spy Illya Kuryakin.

Clearly he had listened too much to DiNozzo's film ravings over the past-next ten years.

"Got a date, Duck?" Gibbs said, walking toward a black body bag on one of the slabs located near the back of the room.

"Well, I suppose '_Giselle'_ sounds like a lovely lady that I would be taking out on a date," Ducky commented with a wistful smile. "But alas, it is not: it is a ballet, one that I have waited for over three months to see. This is quite a fortuitous timing, don't you think?"

Gibbs chuckled. "It happens. It's pretty urgent, though," he said as he unzipped the body bag to reveal the pale body of Sophie Ranier. The upper part of her blouse was matted with blood, and she had several dried bloodstains on her face as well. "Name's Sophie Ranier."

"Oh, she's very beautiful, Jethro," Ducky commented as he looked at the body.

"Yeah, I'm sure her victims thought the same thing." Gibbs walked over to the second body bag, unzipping it to reveal Jean-Paul Ranier, who likewise was wearing a bloodied button shirt.

Ducky raised his eyebrows. "Victims?"

"She was a contract assassin," Kate explained. "She killed twenty-five people."

"The same goes for this man here," Gibbs said. "The husband, Jean-Paul, killed an estimated fifty people. Both of them were Canadian."

"Well, she suffered extensive injuries," Ducky said as he took a closer look at Sophie. "However, it may take quite a while to determine the actual cause of death."

"No need. They were killed in a car accident two days ago, outside Kuwait International Airport. This report will tell you all about it." He took the relevant report out of the folder and gave it to Ducky, who read it.

"Oh my, what a way to go," Ducky commented, looking up at Gibbs. "What do you need me to do?"

"Find out everything we can about these two," Gibbs replied.

"If I may ask, why is NCIS investigating this?"

"Two fake passports and plane tickets were found in their belongings," Kate responded. "Along with reservations for the Barclay hotel through the tenth."

"Marine Corps' birthday," Ducky said in realization.

"Yeah, they're holding a ball at the Barclay, hosted by the Commandant of the Marine Corps," Gibbs replied. "Everyone of consequence, including but not limited to top military leaders, will be going there. It's a possibility the Raniers were planning a hit on somebody there, but we don't know who yet."

"I assume that this is part of an undercover operation." Ducky said as he placed the file on the nearby desk.

Kate nodded. "DiNozzo and Ziva will take their places, and will depart for the hotel tomorrow," she explained with a slight smirk.

"We need you to fill in some of the more personal details of our couple," Gibbs filled in. "Can you do it, Duck?"

"Well, I suppose so," Ducky replied with a sigh. "But I need to point out that none of my patients have ever answered me back."

Gibbs cocked his head slightly. "Sometimes you learn more from a dead body than a live one." Ducky and Kate gave him raised eyebrows, the latter's lips twitching.

"I suppose so," Ducky agreed as he began removing his jacket. "Sometimes what you find can be quite...illuminating." He walked toward the changing room located near the entrance, draping his jacket on a nearby chair before entering.

"Ain't that the truth," Gibbs said as he left the room.

Entering the Lab several moments later, Gibbs stopped in his tracks, Kate nearly running into his back, as he took in the sight before him.

Abby was wearing what appeared to be a pink blouse with a pink bowling jacket draped over her shoulders, along with a blue poodle skirt and light gray leggings. The jacket had a large skull and crossbones emblazoned across its back. Her hair was tied up in a transparent pink scarf.

"Gibbs!" Abby exclaimed, her eyes twinkling behind her cat-eye glasses as she turned to him. "What do you think?" She gestured toward her outfit, doing a little twirl for him. Giving her the once-over, Gibbs thought it was...interesting, to put it, although he didn't like the way the assistant was looking at her. Subjected to the Glare, Chip visibly swallowed and diverted his eyes away.

"I like it," Gibbs said. "League night?"

"Right you are!" Abby grinned. "It was supposed to be held last Friday, but was delayed to tonight. I, for one, can't wait to score a perfect score as usual!" Abby was a very proficient bowler; there was a reason she was the star bowler on her team.

Gibbs nodded. "Can you do something for me, Abs?"

Abby gave him an impish smirk. "Depends on what it is."

Chuckling, Gibbs gestured toward the main computer monitor. "Can you do a profile search on Marcos Siazon?" Abby blinked, and Kate raised her eyebrows at him.

"Gut feeling," Gibbs continued, as if it explained everything – although it probably didn't, judging by the expression on Kate's face.

"Marcos Siazon, got it. Commencing search now," Abby put up the profile search database and typed Siazon's name onto it. After several moments, a pop-up notification appeared on the screen, indicating that Siazon's profile was on a secure database.

"You know what to do, Abs," Gibbs said, glancing at the Lab Rat.

"On it, G-Man!" Abby proceeded to click away on the keyboard. "This might be a bit tricky, given its encryption level."

"I know you can do it, Abs," Gibbs replied.

Abby gave him a smirk. "Never said I couldn't. These guys wouldn't like it too much, though," Before too long, a profile record appeared on the screen. Marcos Siazon.

"Get me everything you can on this one," Gibbs instructed.

"What if it's an alias? Y'know, like the other guys?" Abby asked, furrowing her brow.

"It's not."

"How do you know?"

Gibbs gave her a half-smile, and Abby closed her eyes, looking like she wanted to slap herself.

"Of course, you _always_ know," she said, opening her eyes. "You're the Gibbs, after all. I shouldn't have asked such an obviously stupid question like that. I mean, I've known you for years and—"

Gibbs cut her off with a kiss on her cheek. "Get me Siazon."

He was about to turn around, but a thought hit him, and he leaned toward Abby. "I'd keep a close eye on that assistant of yours if I were you," he whispered. "Sometimes things aren't what they seem."

Abby stared at him. Gibbs nodded curtly before he left.


	20. Dreaming in the Past

**A/N:** This chapter is rated M, so if that's not your type of stuff, skip ahead to the middle of the chapter. With that said, hope you enjoy.

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism—I'm sure you're getting tired of hearing that again and again.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. I don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Under Covers" (3.08), even although most of them have been altered to fit this story. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty:<strong>  
>Dreaming in the Past<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>His feet felt like lead.<p>

As he pushed his perpetually-unlocked front door open, Gibbs felt like every bone in his body was weighing him down, the accumulation of exhaustion and fatigue that served as a constant companion after another day on the job. Making his way through his darkened living room, Gibbs entered the kitchen and reached into his sparse fridge, snatching a bottle of Bud Light.

The clock on the microwave indicated that it was past one in the morning.

He snapped the cap off and was about to raise the bottle to his lips when he heard something. It was very faint and easily missed by an untrained ear, and came from somewhere upstairs. His fatigued muscles began to tense up instinctively as he placed the bottle on the kitchen counter, grabbed his Sig from his holster, and checked (and double-checked) to make sure it was loaded.

Ignoring the faint aches in his ribs, Gibbs silently crept through the living room toward the stairway, treading it carefully so the stairs didn't creak. Squinting, and willing his eyes to adjust to the darkness faster, Gibbs noted the doors on the hallway were closed.

That wasn't what caught his attention, however. At the end of the hallway, where his room was, he could see faint light beneath the closed door. Someone was inside.

His highly-attuned instincts now on full alert, his gut clenching into a tight coil, Gibbs locked his jaw in place as he slowly approached the bedroom. It seemed that his gut tightened with every step he took, and upon reaching the door, he slowly turned the knob and slowly pushed it open.

Shock jolted through him like a lightning bolt. His Sig nearly slipped out of his slackening fingers as he took in the spectacle in front of him.

There were at least a dozen of lit candles around the room, casting the room in a dim glow. He could smell the alluring vanilla fragrance that permeated the room, savoring them as he kept his eyes locked right in front of him.

Lying on his bed was Kate.

She gave him a warm, dimpled smile as he continued to stare at her. She was wearing a black lacy nightgown that hugged her shapely figure really, _really_ well – particularly the chest area – and which ended at the middle of her thighs. He couldn't help but feel his mouth water, and a certain part of him beginning to stiffen, at the captivating sight.

Kate slowly got up from the bed, setting the glass of wine down on the nightstand, and walked over to him, her hips swaying. He swallowed thickly as she stopped before him, her hazel eyes never leaving his, her scent drifting around him, seemingly drawing him closer to her. She reached out and gently pried the Sig from his frozen fingers, placed it on a nearby dresser, and took his hand, lacing her fingers with his.

He wondered if he was dreaming as he stared, dazedly, at the beautiful brunette who was leading him toward the bed. She glanced over her shoulder and gave him yet another of her heart-stopping smiles.

Upon reaching the bed, she sat down on it, gently tugging his hand. As if on autopilot, he complied, sitting next to her, the mattress buckling slightly under his weight. Her eyes seemed to shine lightly in the dim candle lights, and he found himself swallowing once again as he recognized the look.

It was the way Shannon used to look at him, long time ago.

"Katie..." he managed to say, his voice slightly strained, trying to ignore the burning sensation from where his legs made contact with her bare thighs, the soft sensation of her fingers caressing his, and that scent. He would never get enough of it.

She placed a finger on his lips. "Shh..."

He tried to hold back a shudder as she gently caressed his lips.

"You have no idea, Jethro, how much I wanted this...how much I wanted you," Kate whispered, her darkening eyes glancing at his lips as she leaned closer to him. "Ever since that day at Air Force One."

Midst his pounding heart that rang in his ears, a tiny, rational part of his mind beseeched him to bring up his time-honored mantra that had guided him through life: Rule 12. "Never date a co-worker," the rational part whispered fiercely, emphasizing them with a hard head-slap that he never felt.

Yet, Rule 12 didn't _exactly_ forbid this, the larger, irrational part chuckled darkly. Technically, Rule 12 only forbade him from _dating_ his co-workers, nothing else (great emphasis on 'dating'). Since this didn't qualify as dating, he was free to take her right there and then. As if in agreement, a certain part of him throbbed.

And besides, the irrational side purred, it was more of a guideline, anyways...

Before he could think of anything else, she pulled him in, her lips connecting with his. He swore the jolt that passed between their lips shorted his mind out, and for a long moment, he sat there, frozen, as her lips caressed his gently. They were so soft, so warm...

At that thought, his instincts kicked in, and he began returning the kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. She let out a happy sigh against his lips, and put her arms around his neck. He nearly lost it there and then when her fingers began playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck, but managed to get a hold on himself as he got on top of her, between her waiting thighs, running his hands over her waist.

The kiss grew frenzied as lust and desire coursed through him, and Gibbs let his hands roam up her body, running them over her midriff and two soft mounds. He smirked against her lips as she arched her back, pressing them against his hands; he could feel something harden. He gave a gentle squeeze, causing her to let out a moan, in which he stuck his tongue into her mouth.

She tasted damn good.

His tongue was equally as domineering as he was, and he enjoyed wrestling her into submission. She didn't give up easily, though, and gave as much effort as he had. That was what he loved about her: her stubborn determination. As soon he had pinned her for the fourth time, however, his lungs began constricting, indicating the body's need for oxygen.

Reluctantly, he parted from her lips, his chest heaving. Her lips were slightly swollen, and he could see desire dancing in her half-lidded eyes. He couldn't help the smirk that came across his face.

"No idea, huh?" His breath mingled with hers, and she returned his smirk.

"No idea, Special Agent Gibbs," she purred, sending a small shiver through him.

"Mhmm..." he pecked her lips before going lower, leaving a trail of feathery-soft kisses down her neck that caused her to gasp softly. Her hands tightened in his hairs, urging him to continue. He paused to suck softly on her neck; the ensuing moans were music to his ear. Satisfied with his work, he continued his way downward, running his lips over her heaving chest.

Locking eyes with her, he gave her a half-smile before he claimed the hard nub on her left breast and sucked on it hard through the lace gown. It was instantaneous: she arched her back, letting out a sharp gasp that seemed to reverberate around the room, her hands grasping his hair painfully, keeping him there. He took his sweet time suckling and nipping hard on the nub while his fingers worked their magic on the other breast. He then continued his oral ministrations on the right breast.

Apparently, it was too much for her: she pulled him up to her face and kissed him ferociously. "You're overdressed, Jethro..." she said with a soft whine between kisses, her voice husky.

"Why don't you do something about it, Katie?" he challenged. Kate's response was to give him a wicked grin as she all but tore his overcoat from his shoulders. Once the overcoat was gone, tossed carelessly into the floor next to the bed, Kate abruptly turned them around so that she was on top.

"Well, I always liked a woman on top," Gibbs quipped, giving her thighs a soft squeeze.

"And I like a man on bottom." Her wavy hair nearly draping around his face, Kate leant to reclaim his lips once more. This time, it was soft and tender, and Gibbs immersed himself in it, taking the time to enjoy the soft textures and taste of her lips. He let out a soft groan against her lips as she clawed over his chest lightly before yanking his polo shirt and undershirt from his dark slacks and began pulling them up. He dutifully raised his arms and she tossed the shirts away.

"Wow..." she took in his bare chest hungrily.

"That's what they all tell me," Gibbs smirked.

Kate raised her eyes to meet his, her lips curling up. "Oh, I plan to do more than tell, _much_ more," she said, a wicked glint in her eyes. "Tonight, you're mine. All _mine_." Gibbs felt a warm sensation well up in his chest at her claim over him.

Just when he reached toward the hem of her gown, and just when she was leaning toward him, a near-deafening sound pierced through the air. Kate, along with the rest of the room, dissipated away into the darkness like wisps of smokes.

He blinked, his vision blurry, and blinked once again. His vision gradually cleared. He was in his bed, alone in the room, faint light filtering through the shades, the alarm blaring. The sight of the damned alarm clock, which flashed 6:00 AM, angered him for some reason, and he slammed his fist onto it with all his might, several times. The sounds of the alarm splintering into pieces calmed him a bit, and he tossed the tangled sheets off him, swinging his legs over the mattress so he was sitting up.

Why he had set his alarm last night, he didn't know. He usually relied on his gut, which served something of an internal clock.

His thoughts inevitably turned to the dream. It wasn't the first time he'd dreamt about her, even the first time around, but they had never been...intense or lucid as last night. Hell, his dreams about Shannon weren't that intense! It felt so real; he could smell the candles, savor her scent, hear her sultry voice, feel her soft, warm skin, and taste her supple lips... He was fairly positive he could smell a faint scent of vanilla in the room right now.

Ducky's words surfaced in his mind. "In a way, dreams reflect one's deepest desires," the Doctor had said one day, while poring over the exposed heart of a murder victim. Gibbs had scoffed, sarcastically asking if he got that from a fortune cookie. He hadn't believed in this Freudian bullshit back then, but he was now beginning to wonder if it was true.

Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, as well the strange feeling in his chest, Gibbs stood up – and remembered a stiff situation that was straining in his Navy shorts. It felt uncomfortable as hell, and he trudged into the nearby bathroom.

A cold shower or two was in order.

* * *

><p>He wished McGee would hurry up and get things set up already.<p>

He was starting to get sick of the NTSC test patterned screen in front of the MTAC; the bright colors were beginning to burn his eyes.

"Be patient, Jethro," Jenny spoke up, walking over to his side. "They'll be on, soon." Despite himself, Gibbs felt a flicker of annoyance at the Director's faint patronizing tone.

"Patience was never my strong suit, Jen," he remarked stoically, giving the redhead a glance, adjusting his headpiece.

"That's true," Kate said from Gibbs' side, a smirk on her face. "The same can't be said for impatience, though."

Gibbs let out a laugh as he glanced at the brunette. Not for the first time that day, however, the dream flashed in his mind. Kate lying on his bed in a tight nightgown. The steamy kiss. The sensual foreplay. His gut churning, he swallowed thickly and turned to look at the MTAC screen.

Perhaps the bright colors would help burn some of the tantalizing images that had been tormenting him all day. For some reason, whenever he looked at the brunette agent, he had this strange urge to grab her, bend her over his desk, and _assert_ his dominance, up close and personal. More than a few times, the others gave him concerned looks upon seeing him head-slap himself, and it only made him feel more ridiculous.

As if on cue, however, his mind began ruminating on what would've happened if the damned alarm clock hadn't blared, only for him to mentally slap himself. He was a battle-hardened Marine and seasoned investigator, for Pete's sake, he shouldn't be distracted by something as stupid and trivial as a _dream_.

An erotic dream involving his Katie. And them kissing and groping each other, and—

Taking a breath, he mustered enough strength to push the thought away, for the time being.

"You up for a little action, Gibbs?"

What?

He blinked as a certain part of him began to stir, turning his head to look at the brunette. His facial expression must've said it all, as Kate's cheeks began darkening and she gestured toward the screen with her head.

Ah, that's what she meant.

"You propositioning me, Katie?" It came out before he thought about it. Kate narrowed her eyes, the blush deepening.

"You know what I mean," she retorted, glaring at him. He gave her a half-smile.

Right at that moment, the screen abruptly switched to a video-feed. It depicted what appeared to be a wall before the camera was turned around to show a close-up of McGee's face. When he stepped away from the slightly-grainy screen, Gibbs could see a robe-clad DiNozzo and Ziva standing there in the room.

Just like the last time, Gibbs thought to himself. If he remembered correctly, DiNozzo would request some towels—

"_Garçon, we'd like some extra bath towels_," he heard DiNozzo say in a terrible French accent. Yeah, that's what he thought. He glanced at Kate, only to meet her hazel eyes. She gestured at the screen with her head and gave an exaggerated eye-roll. He grinned.

"_Of course_." He could hear the annoyance in McGee's voice.

"_Just checking to make sure everything's in order_," the probationary agent-waiter continued, keeping up his facade as Garçon, presumably using a bug sweeper to check the nearby furniture for any hidden bugs. He walked toward the bed, and turned to the 'couple'.

"_Would you like me to have the maid make up the bed for you, sir?_"

He could practically hear DiNozzo's smirk. "_Oh, that won't be necessary_," the Special Agent-spy extraordinaire drawled as he twirled the belt of his bathrobe around.

"He's really milking it there, isn't he?" Kate muttered.

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah."

"_Oh, and can you check the minibar?_" He heard Ziva speak. She was standing near him, dressed in a brown silk robe. "We'd like it restocked with Red Bull."

"_That'll keep you up all night, ma'am_," McGee pointed out. Gibbs remembered Ziva's strong dislike of being referred to as a ma'am.

"_Exactly_," Ziva purred, and Gibbs couldn't help but admire her acting skills despite her repeated objections to the idea of spending the night in a hotel room with the Special Agent. She had mentioned before leaving for the hotel that she would "rather be tortured than consort with him."

He saw McGee walk past the screen and back, carrying what appeared to be a silver platter topped with a dome lid.

"_Please accept this assortment of cheeses, compliments of the hotel_," the probationary agent-waiter said before the sounds of a lid slamming somewhere nearby. The bug had been 'silenced', and the two FBI agents in the hotel across wouldn't be able to hear anything.

DiNozzo picked up a long wine bottle and began uncorking it, and to his dismay, Gibbs noticed that his bathrobe began opening, inadvertently exposing himself.

"Comfortable, DiNozzo?" Gibbs spoke into the mouthpiece of his headset. The Special Agent chuckled, apparently unaware that he was being watched.

"_Well, yeah_," he said casually, removing the cork. "_I'm still working on it. Why?_"

"We're looking at you, Agent DiNozzo," Jenny replied, sounding amused. "All of you."

DiNozzo froze, his eyes widening as he glanced down and hastily closed his robe. "_Sorry about that._"

"You know, I didn't take you for an exhibitionist, DiNozzo," Kate piped in. DiNozzo blinked.

"_Kate, is that you? Ever when did you become a voyeur?_" he wrapped the bathrobe's inset belt around his waist and tied it tight.

The brunette shrugged, even although DiNozzo couldn't see it. "Oh, I don't know, ever since I saw you with your little friend back in Guantanamo," she shot back sarcastically.

"_Hey, I'll let you know that lizard completely caught—_"

"You do realize that you're not visiting the Playboy mansion, right?" Gibbs cut him off, causing Kate and Jenny to exchange grins.

"_I realize that, boss_," DiNozzo muttered, glancing at Ziva. "_It was her idea, though. Ow!_" Ziva had slapped him hard on the arm. The phone on the nightstand next to the bed began ringing, and DiNozzo looked at it.

"_Incoming call_," he whispered with a glance at the flower-cam.

"Go answer it, Agent DiNozzo," Jenny instructed.

Nodding, DiNozzo turned to Ziva and gently stroked her face. "_Sweet cheeks, could you go over the answer the phone for me while I pour us some champagne, hmm?_" He picked up a couple of wine glasses and held them up playfully as if to accentuate his point. Ziva appeared to narrow her eyes before nodding and making her way toward the phone.

"_Thanks honey!_" DiNozzo called out, pouring the champagne. Ziva ignored him as she took the call.

It was Siazon, Gibbs thought as he watched Ziva open the drawer, pull out a Bible, and open it. She displayed it toward the screen for them to see. Several seconds later, she hung up and turned to DiNozzo.

"_It was the concierge. We were able to get into the dining room after all, my love_," she said brightly as she sashayed toward her 'husband'. "_It seems I am getting dressed up for you tonight._" She picked the glass of champagne and clinked it with his before taking a sip.

"This makes me glad I'm not getting dressed up for him," Kate muttered.

Gibbs gave her a lopsided smile. "Maybe I could send you undercover with DiNozzo next time."

"Do you want to be shot?" Kate growled, glaring.

"Let's not go shooting each other," Jenny interjected with a knowing smirk. "I'm fairly sure it wasn't the concierge."

Gibbs nodded. "It was their contact." Jenny gave him a long glance.

"Why do I have this feeling you know who it is?"

Turning to the Director, Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "What makes you say that, Jen?"

"Because I know you, Leroy Jethro Gibbs," Jenny replied. Kate nodded, a smirk on her face.

Gibbs chuckled. "Hate to burst your bubble, but I don't have that power." Except he did, in a way: the knowledge of the future.

"No, but you do have your famous gut," Kate spoke up.

"Which has proved you correct on many occasions," Jenny added, watching the screen. DiNozzo was standing near the sofa, sipping his champagne. Ziva was off-screen.

"Yeah, but I'll need some hard, verifiable evidence to back it up," Gibbs commented, causing Jenny to narrow her eyes slightly. He gave her a lopsided smile before he walked out of the room.

Getting his cell out, he dialed Ducky. "Meet me in Abby's Lab," he said simply before hanging up without giving the good doctor the chance to reply.

* * *

><p>"Get everything ready, Abs," Gibbs said by way of greetings as he entered the Lab, Kate in tow. "Our couple's going to a dinner reception soon." This entire endeavor was ultimately pointless, though. They had never identified the 'supposed' targets the last time around.<p>

"I already did, G-Man!" Abby replied, gesturing at one of her monitors, which displayed a facial recognition program that was ready and waiting. "As soon DiNozzo activates those special glasses of his, we're rolling into action!"

"Good girl," Gibbs said, pressing his lips to her cheeks.

"Don't I get one?" Kate teased. Gibbs thought about it for a moment, debating whether to do it or not. Aw, what the Hell. He leant over and gave her a peck on the cheek. Kate widened her eyes, a blush blossoming on her face.

"Oh." She glanced down, looking a bit flustered. Gibbs had to smile at that, turning his head to see Abby look at them thoughtfully. He gave her a look, and she shook her head, her lips widening into her usual smile.

"Oh, it's nothing. I mean, I thought of something, but like I said, it's nothing," she babbled, and Gibbs nodded slowly.

"Have anyone told you that you two would make a cute couple?" Abby continued. Gibbs' gut constricted.

"Abs."

"What? I was talking about the undercover operation!" Abby's voice sounded slightly high-pitched, an indication that she was lying. "You two would make a better couple than Tony and Ziva. I mean, don't get me wrong, they're awesome! They have...something between them, but it's more based on rivalry, and I'm sure the Raniers weren't like that. Now, on the other hand, you two—"

"Ah, I see everyone's here." Gibbs was immensely grateful at Ducky's timely entrance, and glanced at Kate, who was still blushing.

"Well, not _exactly_ everyone," Gibbs intoned. Ducky gave him a look before chuckling.

"I suppose so."

"Find anything so far, Duck?"

"Well, an thorough examination of their lung and liver tissues indicates that they might have indulged in smoking and drinking from time to time, though not so much that it greatly damaged the aforementioned tissues," Ducky replied, indicating his clipboard. "I also found that Mister Ranier had a diet high in carbohydrates. Had he continued this diet, he might have had health problems over time, particularly in the blood vessels."

"Who doesn't?" Gibbs remarked.

"The wife, apparently, given her preferences in diets consisting of fruit, vegetables, cheese, and other dairy products," Ducky replied, tilting his head in thought. "You know, I found it interesting that Mr. Ranier's colon was almost impacted with fec—"

"Save it for the dinner, will ya?" Gibbs interrupted.

Several screens began flickering to life. The camera, embedded into DiNozzo's specially-modified glasses, appeared to be moving through the hallway toward the elevators.

"_Boss, we just left the room and we're now heading down to the dining area_," DiNozzo's voice emitted through Gibbs' earpiece. The others could hear him as well.

"We can see that, DiNozzo."

"_Of course, boss_," came the reply. The camera veered to the right, and Ziva's annoyed face came into view. Gibbs watched the screen intently as the 'couple' rode the elevator, punctuated by several stops, down to the ground floor.

"_You know, Sophie, it's been quite a while since we went to a place like this_," DiNozzo was saying as he walked with his 'wife' past the slot machines that dotted the wide expanse of the crowded casino area. "_We should play the slots, have a good time, y'know?_"

"You wanna gamble with your life?" Gibbs interjected.

"_On second thought, dinner's more important_," DiNozzo amended. Before too long, they entered the dining area and approached the maître d'hôtel.

"_Good evening._" the man said with a polite smile. "_Table for two?_"

"_Yes, we have a reservation. The Raniers_," DiNozzo said, and the camera turned toward Ziva, who gave him a strained smile. The maître d'hôtel checked over the reservation list and nodded.

"_Ah, yes. Follow me_." He grabbed two menus and led them to a vacant table near the center of the reception area. From what Gibbs could see, it was somewhat crowded, with many important officials sitting around, eating and drinking.

"Abs, do your magic," Gibbs instructed.

"Didn't know you believed in magic," Abby teased as she activated the program.

"I don't," Gibbs said, watching the program zero on to one of the men sitting at the nearest table, and run dozens of head shots in rapid succession. So far, there was no match. The program then did the same to another official and so on.

"_There's quite a crowd here_," DiNozzo commented. "_I don't remember the last time we were in a place like this._"

"_That is because we were too busy with our contracts, my little hairy butt_," Ziva replied. Kate stifled a snort of laughter.

"_...I wish you didn't call me that, Sophie_," DiNozzo grumbled as the waiter poured water into the martini glasses on the table, and asked them if they wanted appetizers before the main course. DiNozzo asked for shrimp and Ziva for salad.

"_Hey, it is not my fault you do not shave your butt, Jean-Paul_," Ziva retorted.

"That's one reason why I wouldn't be with a person like him, fictional or not," Kate commented, watching one of the screens.

"Well, Gibbs here shaves his butt," Abby glanced at the brunette. "Well, probably. He has to, given that he's a refined person—"

"Abs. Find match, go," Gibbs cut in, sounding exasperated. The Lab Rat nodded, turning back to the screens. A while later, a martini glass filled with steamed shrimp and cocktail sauce, was placed on front of DiNozzo, and he retrieved one of the shrimps.

"_See anyone you know?_" DiNozzo was saying to Ziva, who shook her head.

"_No, not yet. But the night is just getting started_," was the reply. Gibbs glanced at Kate, who had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"Ducky, can you tell our couple what you know?" she asked sweetly, and Gibbs' lips curled up in realization.

Ducky nodded. "Oh yes, I did tell you all about their respective diets a while ago. I have the breakdown of the contents of their stomachs and intestines right here," he gestured toward the clipboard, speaking to the 'couple' as much as he was to the rest of the team in the Lab. "If Mister Ranier had lived, I would have suggested a more fiber-rich diet. His colon was almost impacted with fecal material, which didn't have to be the case."

DiNozzo, who was about to put the shrimp into his mouth, apparently stopped, and the camera dipped to the shrimp before turning to Ziva, who looked amused.

"_Do you think it's too late to order a salad?_" DiNozzo's voice sounded slightly nauseated as he set the shrimp down in the glass. Kate grinned triumphantly, and Gibbs felt proud of his brunette agent.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Don't hurt me. *runs away and hides under Gibbs' boat*


	21. Past Doubles

**A/N:** Here's the update, it was quite fun to write. Read and enjoy.

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. I don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Under Covers" (3.08), even although most of them have been altered to fit this story. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-One:<strong>  
>Past Doubles<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>Apparently, having knowledge of the future didn't always mean things would go his way, and he hated that. True, some of the past events (such as the cat-and-mouse game with Ari Haswari) had been resolved in his favor one way or another, but <em>still<em>.

Marcos Siazon had gotten away, just like the last time.

As soon Ziva received the call from Siazon, and showed his number on the screen to the glass-cam, Gibbs hoped that the crafty assassin would be apprehended much earlier. Not only would a threat be neutralized, but DiNozzo and Ziva wouldn't have to be captured and held hostage. Hell, DiNozzo wouldn't have to suffer the brutal beatings he had sustained by one of Siazon's men.

As much as he wanted to yell for them to go over to the kitchen area right away, where Siazon was undoubtedly using a payphone, Gibbs had to settle on ordering Abby to trace the call. He couldn't afford arousing suspicions, much less answer uncomfortable questions (and he was damn good at answering them – not). One can only use the gut feeling as an excuse so often. The tracing program took an excruciatingly long time to get a lock on the location.

As soon the location flashed on the screen, Gibbs immediately ordered DiNozzo and McGee to seize the man. "Check the kitchen!" he had emphasized. As DiNozzo power-walked from the dining reception room and then ran in the direction of the payphones near the kitchen area, Gibbs found himself exchanging glances with Kate, hoping that they would succeed.

So close, but no cigar. The Special Agent had checked the kitchen as well; there was no sign of Siazon.

Disappointment pooling in the pit of his stomach, Gibbs had ordered DiNozzo and Ziva to stay in their room for the night. Judging by the expression on Ziva's face, he hoped DiNozzo would make it through the night.

Entering the bullpen, he stopped by Kate's desk and placed a Lot 38 Espresso cup of her favorite coffee in front of her. "Thank you." Kate gave him a wide dimpled smile. Gibbs half-smiled at her before walking toward McGee's desk and placing another cup on it. The probationary agent, who was putting on his waiter jacket, blinked in surprise before a small smile appeared on his face.

"Thank you, boss."

"Don't mention it." Gibbs sat down at his desk, sipping his coffee. His thoughts went over some of Jenny's words last night.

"My Director side is telling me to flood that hotel with security and notify the FBI of a potential terrorist attack," she had remarked, glancing at the MTAC screen that depicted the darkened room that DiNozzo and Ziva was currently sleeping in. "But my Agent side tells me that if I do that, we lose the chance to take down an enemy cell operating inside the capital. The last thing we need for them to scatter at this crucial moment."

With that, his first instinct to contact Fornell right away to scope the hotel out during the night was placed on the backburner. Why were the simplest things so difficult sometimes?

"Um, boss?"

Gibbs turned to McGee, who was holding a small box wrapped in brown bag paper. He recognized it immediately. It was Ziva's special sunglasses that could detect invisible lasers, especially from sniper rifles a distance away. "This was sitting on my front porch this morning," the agent said as he walked over to Gibbs' desk. "It's addressed to Ziva."

"I can see that." Gibbs looked at Ziva's name scribbled on the box in marker ink. Taking the package, he got out his trusty folding knife and cut the wrapping open before tearing it away. He then opened the box, reaching through the shredded packaging paper to retrieve a pair of sunglasses and a spare set of unique-colored lenses.

"Sunglasses? What does she need it for?" Kate asked curiously.

"Knowing Ziva, she probably has it for a reason," Gibbs replied as he put the sunglasses and the lenses back into the box and capped it. "Give them a wake-up call," he ordered McGee, who nodded.

"Will do." He put on a headpiece and activated the plasma. The room appeared in view; DiNozzo was sprawled out on the bed, tangled in the sheets. Ziva was probably next to him.

"Tony," McGee called into the mic. When the Special Agent didn't stir, McGee tried again in a louder voice. "Hey DiNozzo!"

"You might want to go a little louder," Kate suggested.

McGee nodded. "Yeah. Wouldn't be surprised if he's doing that to spite me," he muttered, turning to the plasma. "Tony! Rise and shine! _TONY!_" At last DiNozzo stirred, batting at his ear, only to go still once again. The probationary agent let out a frustrated sigh.

"Great. DiNozzo gets to sleep in a five-star hotel, and I'm standing here, dressed up like a waiter."

"_Want to trade places?_" McGee seemed to jolt when Ziva stepped in front of the screen. She was already dressed up.

"You're awake," McGee stated the obvious. Gibbs and Kate exchanged looks, smirking.

"_Since five._" Ziva glanced at her sleeping 'husband'. "_Oh my God, sleeping with DiNozzo...it was horrible, and I am putting it very lightly. He snores very loud._"

Gibbs found it amusing, if not ironic, because the Israeli actually snored like a "drunken sailor with emphysema", as DiNozzo had so aptly put it. "I take it that you didn't enjoy it, Ziver?" he stood from his desk and went over to the plasma.

Ziva let out a long-suffering sigh. "_It was sheer torture. Torture!_"

"Well, you did say you would prefer to be tortured," Gibbs remarked, eliciting a snort from Kate.

Ziva's eyes narrowed before a small grin came across her face. "_I suppose_," she acknowledged before her face became serious. "_Please do not pair me up with him like that again!_"

"You might want to avoid playing rock-paper-scissors with DiNozzo, then," Kate said, stepping next to Gibbs.

Ziva nodded, her slightly tousled hair bobbling a bit. "_Yes. I have learned a very important lesson. Never play games with DiNozzo._" She then cocked her head slightly. "_Though I still do not understand why paper beats rock._"

"I think it has something to do with the paper covering the rock, which counts as a 'win'," McGee replied. "And I got a package here for you." He held up the box.

"_My shades._" Ziva leant closer to the screen, her eyes rounding a little. "_I see you opened it, though._"

"It was Gibbs," Kate said helpfully. He gave her a look, which she returned with an innocent smile. Ziva smiled, shaking her head.

"_Can you bring them up with breakfast, McGee?_"

McGee nodded. "Will do. Can you get Tony up?"

A wicked grin appeared on Ziva's face and she glanced at the sleeping Special Agent. "_It will be my pleasure._" She grabbed a plastic water bottle from a nearby table, held it up for them to see, and walked over to the bed with the graciousness of a panther prowling toward its sleeping prey.

"_Jean-Paul, my little furry bear_," she intoned as she tipped the bottle over DiNozzo's head. Immediately, the Special Agent bolted up from the bed with a yell, getting into a kung-fu stance on the mattress. "_I'm in position, boss!_" Ziva gave him a freaked-out look before walking away.

"Charming, isn't he?" Kate shook her head at DiNozzo's ridiculous antics, not to mention his boxers.

Gibbs gave her a smirk. "Yeah, that's why you like him," he teased playfully. Kate responded by slapping him on the shoulder.

"Don't start there, it's not funny," she warned, although her eyes betrayed her amusement. On the screen, DiNozzo was now standing next to the bed, stretching and appearing to be saying – or grumbling – something to Ziva, who steadfastly ignored him.

"_Kate likes who?_" the Israeli whispered.

"Gibbs, apparently," Abby cut in as she bounded into the bullpen, Ducky in tow. At Kate's glare, the Lab Rat continued: "And the rest of us too. Why wouldn't she? We're like one big happy family!"

Gibbs raised a brow at the grinning forensic scientist. "Find anything?"

"Well, I tried to find everything I could on Siazon, but I couldn't find much. His name's legit. He's divorced and has a five-year daughter, who he shares custody with the mother, who lives in New York," Abby said. "He apparently lives here in DC, but his home address is bogus, and his finances are clean."

Gibbs mulled over this information. "How clean?"

"Squeaky clean," Abby replied. "It's possible he has an off-shore account like the other assassins did, but we haven't found anything to confirm that. He's pretty good at covering his tracks, given that he's wanted in more than five countries."

Nodding, Gibbs turned to Ducky. "Anything else?"

"I thought I found everything that would help us with this operation. But it appears that I had overlooked something, something which may be very crucial," Ducky answered.

Gibbs had an idea of what it was. "Such as?" He prompted, slightly impatient.

"Markings, or tattoos, so to say. They were on the inside of the fourth digit on both of their left hands. They were almost invisible to the naked eye, and that is why I missed it the first time." The medical examiner almost looked disappointed in himself for missing something like that.

Gibbs cocked his head, and Ducky nodded before continuing.

"It was likely the sign for infinity. And that is not the most interesting part. You see, I examined one of the X-ray screens, and I found something embedded on the conjunctive layer of Sophie Ranier's left eye, two centimeters below the supra orbital notch. It was a tiny golden heart."

Gibbs lifted his brow. "Heart?"

"Yes. At first, I thought it was a speck of dirt on the X-ray sheet. Upon closer examination – and it was not easy, let me tell you – I found it had the symbol on it as well."

"And that's _still_ not even the interesting part!" Abby spoke in, looking between Gibbs and Ducky. "The 'heart' was actually a memory chip containing two files. One had a list of the Raniers' bank accounts and assets, including a house that they had purchased in Maine a couple of weeks ago."

This only confirmed what Gibbs already knew. "Sounds like they were planning to leave the business."

"Yes. That's not all, though," Abby paused for a moment. "The second file had a list of their past contracts, listing all the details about those who hired them and the targets. Names, addresses, phone numbers, everything. Siazon was one of them."

"So...the Raniers knew they would be targeted, so they used that file as 'insurance'," Kate commented.

"Yeah, they wanted the file to be found just in case something happened to them. Hence the tattoo," Gibbs said. "It was meant to alert someone, probably an associate, that they had the file in their possession."

"And thus expose their employers and bring the contract business tumbling down with them," Ducky added. "Quite ingenious of them." At that moment, Gibbs' eyes widened slightly.

"Trott was working with the Raniers," he said in realization. "He was covering their backs, and Siazon had him tortured for information on their whereabouts and thus the file. When he refused to spill his guts, he was killed."

"And Siazon probably had Trott under surveillance beforehand," Kate added in. "And must've thought that he hid it in that boathouse, given that Trott frequented it. That's why Shull and Hollihan were there..."

"_So...we're the actual targets?_" Gibbs turned toward the screen to see DiNozzo next to Ziva, looking a bit surprised.

"More or less. The stakes just got higher, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied before turning to McGee. "You go."

McGee nodded. "On my way."

* * *

><p>"You up for some action, Katie?" Gibbs stepped out of the elevator onto the tenth floor of the Continental hotel, a Sig Sauer firmly grasped in his hand.<p>

Kate quirked a brow at his question, an impish smirk on her face. "With you? Always," she teased as she followed him down the hallway toward the west wing. Gibbs found himself swallowing as the dream flashed in his mind. Pushing them away, he glanced at the brunette.

"Good to know," he quipped as they passed by W1015, the room they were in earlier. Glancing around the corner at the end of the hallway, he slowly advanced toward the door on the left-side. The sign, W1030, was displayed on the door. As Kate walked to the other side of the door, he took position, holding his Sig up. He could hear faint voices inside.

This was the room that the FBI agents were in. Ziva's special lenses detected their laser, presumably from a sniper rifle trained on their room, and Abby was able to triangulate their location using a 3D reconstruction program, right to the exact floor and room they were in.

"We're in position, DiNozzo," Gibbs whispered into the mic on his jacket lapel. "Give it the big finish." He looked at Kate as he said this. Readying himself, he nodded at the brunette who stepped back and kicked the door open.

"_NCIS!_" He yelled, charging into the room, aiming his pistol at the FBI agents, who bolted from their chairs and whirled around.

"_FBI!_ Put your weapons down!" The agents yelled, pointing their own pistols at them.

Two pairs of eyes widened. Two pairs of eyes blinked a couple of times.

For an instant, Gibbs thought he was looking at himself. The blue eyes that stared at him almost intimidated him. Almost. The hazel eyes were disconcertingly familiar. It was the doppelganger couple they had encountered several days earlier.

His mind whirling, Gibbs slowly lowered his weapon, Kate and the FBI agents doing the same.

"Well, this is certainly interesting," the brunette woman broke the exceedingly awkward silence.

"Yeah," Gibbs and his doppelganger said at the same time, and looked at each other with raised brows.

"If by 'interesting' you mean freaky, then yeah," Kate muttered, glancing at Gibbs.

Silence descended once again, and Gibbs looked at the surveillance equipment that were set up near the window facing the Barclay: a monitor displaying the 'gyrating' form of the 'Raniers' on the infrared screen, a keyboard, a laser mike recording device, a sniper rifle lying next to the desk, and a couple of binoculars and headphones strewn on the floor. An empty pizza box and soda bottles were at the corner.

"Didn't know the FBI hired voyeurs," Gibbs remarked dryly, holstering his pistol. Kate held back a giggle and the other agents let out chuckles despite themselves.

"Somebody gotta watch somebody sometimes," the man said, swiveling the hotel chair and sitting down.

"What's the FBI doing here?"

"What's NCIS doing here?" The brunette woman retorted. The sense of familiarity coursed through him, and Gibbs glanced at Kate. They really looked so alike, they could be sisters.

"I presume you're working on a case," Gibbs said, glancing at the monitor. DiNozzo and Ziva were still keeping it going.

The man cocked his head slightly to the side, looking at him for a moment. "You could say that." He seemed to be a man of a few words, Gibbs mused to himself.

"It involves assassins, so to say," Kate spoke up. The doppelgangers exchanged glances.

"Do that mean we're somehow working on the same case?" The woman asked.

Gibbs nodded. "Apparently our Directors didn't get the memo about working together."

"Pardon me for asking, but what does NCIS have to do with this?" The man asked. "Don't you guys investigate crimes pertaining to the Navy?"

"I see you know about us, that's good to know," Gibbs' voice sounded a bit sarcastic, causing the others to smile. "And yeah, if one of the assassins dresses up like a Navy lieutenant and then gets murdered in a grisly way."

"One of the assassins? You mean there's others?" The woman glanced at the monitor.

"Used to be," Kate replied. "We made some..._unexpected_ discoveries, and sufficient to say, they weren't what we had expected."

"And speaking of which, sometimes things aren't what they seem to be," Gibbs added in. The FBI agents furrowed their brow, exchanging glances.

"What do you mean?" The man queried, looking intrigued.

"That couple you're watching?" Gibbs pointed at the monitor, which now showed two prone forms on the bed. "Jean-Paul and Sophie Ranier? That ain't them."

Now the doppelganger couple looked shocked. "What do you mean? It's not them?" The brunette looked between him and the monitor. "Assuming what you're saying is true, who had we been observing the whole time?"

Gibbs couldn't resist the smirk that quirked his lips. It wasn't often that NCIS was able to catch the almighty FBI off-guard. "Our agents. The Raniers were killed in a car accident a few days ago, so we went undercover."

"Damn..." The man muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "Guess we really didn't get the memo."

"To think that the whole time we were..." The female agent muttered, shaking her head. "Wait, the Raniers were planning a hit at the hotel, so why are your agents still pretending to be them? Did you find the identity of the target?"

"Yeah," Gibbs said with a shrug. Kate smirked.

"And...?" The other brunette prompted when Gibbs didn't elaborate any further.

"You're looking at them."

"You mean..." the man, realization dawning on his face. "The assassins themselves were the actual target?"

"More or less," Gibbs confirmed.

"That doesn't make sense," the woman muttered. "Why would an assassin target other assassins?"

"That's a good question," Kate remarked knowingly.

The other woman looked at her with slightly narrowed eyes. "Why do I have this feeling you know something that you're not telling us?" she said.

"We'll forward the information," Gibbs said flippantly as he turned around, ready to leave the room.

"Wait!" The man called out, stopping him in his tracks. "We'll have to inform our supervisor about these new developments. Is there any chance we could work together to resolve this case, since we seem to be doing the same thing?"

Gibbs thought about it for a moment. "Can't say," he replied, shrugging. "Not my decision."

"Could we go with you to your headquarters? We'd like to know how you did all this. I mean, the way you managed to catch us in the act, and that you somehow kept us in the dark, literally and figuratively...how did you do that?" The woman inquired, looking slightly impressed.

Gibbs exchanged looks with Kate. The last time around, the agents – different persons named Maya and Yussif, if he remembered correctly – had went to NCIS Headquarters, where they voiced their convictions that DiNozzo and Ziva had been making love in the hotel room, not pretending as they actually were.

"I suppose so."

The man grinned. "Thanks. Oh, before I forget, what's your name?"

Huh, this was interesting. Not a few people told him that his reputation preceded him. Even Richard Parsons, a lowly Inspector General investigator in the Department of Defense, knew about him. True, he compiled files on everybody in DC as blackmail material, but still.

"Guess you're not as famous as you think, Gibbs," Kate teased, leaning toward him. Gibbs gave her a half-smirk.

The FBI agents blinked. "Gibbs?" The woman began, her eyes widening as if in realization.

"As in...Leroy Jethro Gibbs?" The man finished, looking slightly impressed.

"Want my autograph?" Gibbs asked sarcastically.

"You're like a legend around here," the man said, shaking his head slightly. "No wonder our supervisor keeps talking about you."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. He couldn't help but get this feeling in his gut that he knew who it was.

The man nodded at the expression on Gibbs' face. "Yeah. Agent Fornell."

Ah, that explained so much.

"We're kinda new at this, we recently joined the FBI," the woman explained. "Oh, where's my manners? I'm Probationary Agent Kathryn Stodden. You can call me Kathy."

"And I'm Jerry Hobbs."

Gibbs stared at the doppelgangers as he shook hands with them. This wasn't merely strange; it was now downright bizarre. Earlier in the year, he had thought it was interesting when he'd met a local law enforcement team led by Lieutenant John Cheney who resembled the MRCT in personalities. But meeting people who actually resembled them physically and shared similar names?

He needed coffee.

Kate shook out of her thoughts and gave them a smile. "I'm Agent Kate Todd."

"Nice to meet you." Kathy shook hands with Kate, Hobbs doing the same.

* * *

><p>"How do I explain to the director of the FBI that we're running an undercover op in his jurisdiction without informing him?"<p>

Gibbs had to hold back a smirk at the exasperated expression on Jenny's face as she stormed out of the office into the mezzanine. FBI Director Robert Miller could be a bit of a bastard when it came to jurisdiction, especially when other agencies intruded without informing him.

"With a smile," he quipped, sipping his coffee as he followed her. With a glance over the railing, he could see Kate and McGee conversing with the FBI agents in the bullpen.

Jenny glared. "It's not funny, Jethro!" she snapped, snatching the coffee cup and taking a long sip from it.

"Well, you're right. Interagency rivalries aren't funny. The FBI had intel that the Raniers were planning to hit their target at the Marine Corps ball, the whole time. Didn't the SecNav tell you that?"

The Director sighed, turning to lean on the railing. "No, he didn't. Nobody told me anything about that. Still, I should've thought of that."

Gibbs would've told her that she was exhausted and to take a break from time to time, but he knew she would insist on working the case to the very end. It was her greatest strength – and weakness, if her obsession with René "La Grenouille" Benoit was any indication.

"We're in this case, and are in it for the long haul. The FBI's gonna have to accept it." Gibbs took the cup back.

Jenny glanced at him, her lips curling a little. "They're not gonna like it."

"Never said they would."

"That's easy to say, Jethro, You don't have to face the FBI director to explain what you've done."

Gibbs let out a chuckle. "Yeah, makes me glad I'm not Director," he rumbled, going past her toward the stairs.

"You're not gonna fix this?" Jenny called out, and Gibbs paused on the landing, turning to her.

"I suppose I could, but then I don't want you to get fired." Gibbs half-smirked at Jenny's narrowed eyes before descending the rest of the stairs. Right at that moment, the elevator chimed and Fornell walked out, a scowl on his face.

"Fancy seeing you, Tobias," Gibbs quipped as he walked into the bullpen. Kate and the FBI agents turned around.

"What's NCIS doing at the Barclay?" The FBI Special Agent asked gruffly, following him. Gibbs turned, a smirk dancing on his lips.

"Our job. What else?"

Fornell took a step closer. "Jeopardizing our operations your specialty now?"

Gibbs pasted on an annoyed expression. "Hey, you're damn lucky we didn't blow these two away!" He gestured at Kathy and Hobbs, who looked on with raised eyebrows.

"That wouldn't have happened if you hadn't strayed into our jurisdiction!" Fornell's voice grew louder with every word, and Gibbs clenched his jaw.

"Conference room, now!" Gibbs headed for the elevator.

"So anxious to play with the big boys," Fornell sneered, falling in step next to him.

"Big boys, my ass," Gibbs spat out, all but slamming his hand on the elevator button, leveling the Glare on his FBI counterpart.

"This is going to be ugly," McGee commented, glancing at the two agents.

"Yeah, Fornell hasn't been this upset since..." Kathy said, glancing at her partner.

"...the last time we saw him, actually," Hobbs finished. Kate remained silent, looking at the two agents, particularly Gibbs.

Entering the 'conference room', Gibbs hit one of the buttons. A moment later, he flipped the emergency stop switch and the elevator bounced to a stop.

"Gum?" Fornell asked with a slight smirk, holding out a pack of gum, his gruff countenance now gone. Gibbs retrieved a strip.

"The big boys?" he said with a chuckle, unwrapping the gum and putting it in his mouth. Fornell responded with a grin before he let out a sigh and leaned against the wall.

"We really screwed this one up."

"That's an understatement, Tobias," Gibbs replied, wincing slightly at the gum's spicy cinnamon flavor. "And cinnamon gum, Tobias? _Really_?"

Fornell shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. "Thought I'd try something new."

"New's not your thing." Gibbs spat the chewed gum into the wrapper. "You like things used."

Fornell let out a snort. "You're still on this, Jethro?"

"Have to. It's part of the job description."

The FBI agent shook his head, smirking. "Figures. How do you propose we fix this before our Directors get in a world-class pissing match, though?"

"Joint op," Gibbs suggested without thinking. He had suggested the same thing the last time, and it had gone smoothly for the most part.

Fornell nodded. "Who's lead?"

"My team's already in place," Gibbs replied.

"Did you find out who hired them yet?"

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah. Name's Marcos Siazon. Contract assassin. Wanted in more than five countries."

"Siazon..." Fornell said, remembering that name. "The Philippines' been gunning for him ever since he made an attempt on their President's life a few years back."

"Yeah, they're not the only one. We tried to apprehend him at the hotel last night, but he got away."

"They always get away..." Fornell muttered, shaking his head. "So FBI gets operational control?" Gibbs had to chuckle at the hopeful expression on the agent's face.

"Yeah, and credit for the collar." It was the least he could do for an old friend. The memories of January 2015 flashed in his mind. Her lying on the parking lot, a bullet hole on her forehead. A teary Fornell and his daughter, Emily, at the funeral. Blinking, he pushed them away.

"Agreed." Fornell looked satisfied, apparently not noticing the expression that briefly came across Gibbs' face. The Directors get to save face and we..."

"...get the job done, as usual." Gibbs raised his cup.

"And people say we're bastards," Fornell remarked.

Gibbs smirked. "Only because they know us. Oh, and speaking of which...what's up with these agents of yours?"

Fornell mirrored Gibbs' smirk. "You like them?"

"Yeah, even more if they didn't look so much like Kate and I," Gibbs intoned sarcastically.

"Well...thought it'd be nice to have a 'Gibbs' and a 'Todd' on my team for a change," Fornell said, causing Gibbs to let out a snort. "They're pretty great at their jobs, though."

"I'm sure."

Fornell rolled his eyes. "You caught them completely off-guard, Jethro. Can you blame them for that?" When Gibbs shrugged, Fornell continued: "You know, I offered Agent Todd a position in the FBI. After Air Force One."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. Fornell had never told him that, before and after Kate's death. "Really."

"Yeah. She did a great job in the Secret Service, and she'd resigned. It didn't hurt to ask, you know? Imagine my disappointment when I found out she had accepted your offer."

This was interesting. The job offer, well, it wasn't that much of an offer, actually. "Yep, pull that crap at NCIS and I won't give you a chance to resign," he'd told Kate that day. The way he had said it – Hell, the way he'd treated her on AFO – she would've easily declined the offer, more so when Fornell offered her a job. Had he made such an impact on her that she'd opted to work for NCIS, despite the fact he was, and still is, a magnificent bastard?

"Well, you don't waste good," Gibbs quoted Rule 5.

Fornell grinned. "That's your mantra, isn't it?"

"Among other things, yeah."

"Well, I'd hang on to her and never let go if I were you." Fornell's knowing smile caused him to shift on his feet.

"Yeah." Gibbs flipped the emergency switch. When the elevator arrived at their destination, he pasted on his usual stern expression and left, parting ways with Fornell.

Fornell was right, though. He would definitely hang on to her and never, _ever_ let her go if he could help it.

She was his Katie, after all.


	22. The Hard-Hitting Past

**A/N:** So ends this arc. "Under Covers" was one of my favorite episodes, and speaking of which, you'll see Hobbs and Kathy in future updates. With that said, we're little over half-way into this story. I could cover all seasons (including the current one) in one fic, but it would probably be a tiring slog for all of you. So, I was thinking of doing a serial, with each story focusing on one or two seasons (this story focuses on Season 3, for instance). What do you think?

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. I also don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Under Covers" (3.08), even although most of them have been altered to fit this story. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Two:<strong>  
>The Hard-Hitting Past<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>"<em>We're on our way to the elevator, boss<em>."

Gibbs felt himself tense up, remembering that they had been captured by Siazon's men at around that time.

"Take the stairs," he ordered. If the worse came to worse, though, he would go over to the hotel right away. After all, the FBI was in position, and he knew Siazon would more likely take them to the third floor.

"_Stairs?_"

"Exercise's good for you, DiNozzo."

Several, nerve-wracking moments later, DiNozzo and Ziva emerged from the hotel and entered a black 2004 Lincoln Passenger limousine parked out front. He couldn't help but exhale in relief, although his gut disagreed with him. He found himself entering unfamiliar territory once again, figuratively speaking, as he didn't know what would happen next.

He jolted a little when a warm hand slipped into his. "They're gonna be okay." Kate gave him a reassuring squeeze.

"I know." He couldn't completely keep the uncertainty out of his voice. "Siazon's a pretty crafty guy, though. He evaded Interpol and a myriad of foreign government agencies, y'know."

Kate gave him a smile. "He's not gonna evade us."

He didn't know if by 'us' she meant NCIS or them, but his heart warmed a bit nevertheless. "Yeah."

"She's right," Jenny spoke up, glancing at him. "The FBI's mobile units will tail them everywhere they go. No matter what happens, they won't go far." Fornell, who was standing next to Kate, nodded in agreement. He noticed Gibbs and Kate's joined hands and hid a smirk.

"_Boss, the Lincoln's leaving_," McGee spoke through the headset. He was standing near the hotel's entrance.

"Yeah, I can see that." Gibbs watched the vehicle pull away from the hotel curb on the MTAC screen.

"All units, go," Fornell barked into his headset. Parked down the streets near the Barclay, two vehicles – a 1998 Chrysler and a 2003 Cadillac Escalade – began driving into the street, one at a time as to avoid arousing suspicion. A 2002 Porsche was parked around the corner from the hotel, ready to move when the Lincoln passed by, and so was a 1997 Ford van at the next intersection.

"How ya holding up?" Gibbs spoke into the mic. "And put the glasses on." The main screen changed from a surveillance feed of the hotel's exterior to a real-time video feed from DiNozzo's glasses, showing what appeared to be the back passenger area of the limo. One of the side screens illustrated a Google-style map, a moving red dot indicating the position of the limo, courtesy of Ziva's cell phone.

"_It's a smooth ride so far, boss_," DiNozzo replied, and the cam turned to Ziva, who rolled her eyes. Despite himself, Gibbs smirked, sharing a glance with Kate.

"It might get bumpy, so keep an eye out. Remember: anything goes wrong, you abort. Get it?"

"_Got it_," DiNozzo and Ziva said at the same time.

"Good. We're with you," Gibbs continued.

"_That is good. Who knows what DiNozzo would do to me in the back of a limo?_" Ziva said. Gibbs and the others chuckled.

DiNozzo gave a dry laugh. "_That's really funny, Sophie. You didn't have a problem sleeping with me last night!_"

"_Ugh, do not remind me_," Ziva groaned.

"And me as well," Kate muttered. Gibbs realized that he was still holding hands with her. He began pulling his hand away, only to have her fingers tighten around his. He glanced at her with raised eyebrows, and she gave him a small smile.

As much he liked holding her hand, he didn't want Jenny or Fornell to notice that and start asking questions. A thought hit him, and he smirked as he began wiggling his fingers away a bit. When she tightened her grip once again, he wiggled his hand away more. She narrowed her eyes, and he grinned. He kept his hand there, and when she loosened her grip a bit, he deftly pulled it away. She pouted a little.

On the map, the dot slowly moved through M Street before turning southwards into 21st Street. Gibbs watched intently as it continued through the street before turning into Benning Road, heading westward toward Florida Avenue. It went past a place called Gallaudet University before heading for North Capitol Street.

"You're heading for Maryland," Gibbs spoke into his headset when the dot turned into Rhode Island Ave.

"_Great, my favorite state_," DiNozzo muttered. It wasn't exactly a secret at NCIS that DiNozzo didn't have great memories of Maryland, particularly Baltimore.

"_I guess we are visiting your old friends in Baltimore, yes?_" He could practically hear Ziva's smirk.

"_Don't rub it in_."

At the last intersection before Maryland, the dot turned left into South Dakota Ave, and Gibbs raised his brow, suspicion brewing in his mind. As the limo cruised down the street before turning into Missouri Ave, Gibbs turned to Fornell.

"Your teams still got visual on them?"

Fornell nodded. "One of them. The others are managing the best they can. Traffic can be a tricky bastard, though." Gibbs smirked, knowing the FBI agents had to obey traffic rules (their cars were unmarked, after all) and couldn't afford to be pulled over by the police at this moment for running red lights in order to keep up with the limo.

"They appear to be going toward Rock Creek Park," Jenny remarked. "Do you think that's the meeting place?"

"It's possible. We'll have to wait and see, though," Gibbs replied. There was a golf course there, and from what he'd learned from Abby, Jean-Paul Ranier loved golfing.

"DiNozzo, Ziva, you're heading for the Rock Creek golf course," Gibbs spoke into his headpiece.

"_Ah, golfing. I used to play it with my father whenever we were on holiday._" DiNozzo's voice sounded slightly bitter. "_Of course, he made me hold the clubs while he hit on women, but still._"

"_That does not sound so bad_," Ziva said. Gibbs imagined that DiNozzo was giving her a glare.

"_I was a kid back then!_"

"_Oh. That explains a lot, though_." Gibbs had to smile at that.

To his surprise, the dot passed through the park without stopping. It crossed into Maryland through the town of Somerset.

"You're heading toward Bethesda," Gibbs informed his undercover agents, wondering where they were going. If he was Siazon, where would he likely take the Raniers to?

However, right at that moment, the video-feed screen faltered before dissolving into static. On the map screen, the dot blinked a couple of times before disappearing entirely.

"DiNozzo? Ziva? Do you copy?" He called out, his stomach coiling in worry. There was no response; he couldn't hear anything on their end.

"Damn it." A mobile signal and GPS jammer must've been used in the limo, probably by the driver. Gibbs turned to Fornell. "Tell me we have visual on them."

"It appears we lost sight of—wait a minute, one of our teams just spotted them going down River Road," Fornell replied, holding a finger on his headpiece.

Gibbs felt slightly relieved. "Anything else?"

Fornell's frown deepened. "They seem to be heading toward the Beltway."

Gibbs let out a sigh. "Great." The Beltway was notorious for heavy traffic, particularly in the morning. Finding a limousine midst hundreds of cars cramming into a short stretch of road was going to be loads of fun.

"Where do you suppose they're going?" Jenny queried, glancing at Gibbs.

Gibbs gave a light shrug. "Good question."

"They just passed the Beltway." Fornell turned to look at them, looking confused. "They're heading toward Bradley Farms."

"Check it out," Gibbs said. Jenny turned to the technicians and nodded. The map screen expanded to the rest of the MTAC screen before zooming into the area between Bannockburn Heights and Bradley Farms. From what he could see, there were several clubs. But which one?

"There are three golf clubs there, along with several parks," Kate commented. "I wonder which one they'll go?"

"Assuming they stop there, of course," Jenny pointed out.

"The limo just turned left at River Road," Fornell said a moment later. The map zoomed further, and an address popped up on the screen.

"The Congressional Country Club," Gibbs recited. "That's where we're going." He didn't wait for the others to reply before leaving the MTAC.

* * *

><p>"The limo brought them to the front of the club, and two figures escorted them inside."<p>

Gibbs nodded at FBI Agent Jerry Hobbs' explanation as he looked at the building in front of him. The Congressional Country Club was a massive white Mediterranean-style building with red tiled roofs, surrounded by vast expanses of well-maintained grasses and trees. Just beyond were the cross-checked fairways of the golf courses.

"Description?" He turned to his doppelganger.

"One of them appeared to be a burly figure, while the other looked stocky. Wasn't easy to get a good look, though," Hobbs replied. Spivey was the stocky man, he knew, but he wasn't sure about the other man. Combing through his mind, he was almost sure that it was the man who had beaten DiNozzo. He had never gotten the name, though.

"Never thought I'd be here," Kate commented, shielding her eyes against the sun.

Gibbs half-smirked. "Well, yeah, it's an exclusive club."

"What club isn't?" Kate bantered. Gibbs's reply was to chuckle as he headed toward the building.

"Knowing this type of club, they probably have a private conference room somewhere," Fornell said, taking a look around the spacious, sparsely-populated lobby that they had just entered. There were a few men and women standing nearby, minding their usual business.

Gibbs turned to the FBI agent. "You been here before?"

Fornell snorted. "I wish, Jethro."

"Don't we all?" Gibbs and Kate headed toward the front reception desk, while Fornell and his agents stayed back. A beautiful red-head looked up and immediately put on a flirtatious grin. "Welcome to the Congressional Country Club! How may I help you, sir?" Gibbs had to contain a smirk at the way her eyes roamed all over him.

"We're NCIS agents," he said, holding his badge and ID up. "We'd like to ask if you've seen four figures pass through here recently. Three men and one woman." He inwardly winced at how vague he sounded. "Two of them are our agents. The woman's Israeli, and one of the men looks like a smooth-talker." He could hear Kate's barely suppressed snort.

The receptionist thought about it for a moment. "Oh yes, I believe so. The guy looked pretty good in glasses. They went that way," she pointed in the direction of the doors that led to the atrium nearby."

Gibbs nodded. "Suppose one wanted to have a...private meeting, where would they go?"

"A private meeting, huh?" The receptionist smiled, batting her eyes. Gibbs didn't have to look at Kate to know that she was rolling her eyes. "You could go to the fourth floor. There's a couple of conference rooms there, used for all type of meetings."

"How often are they used?"

"Not very, I'd guess. Most of our members here like to play golf, dine, swim, and enjoy everything this club has to offer. You'll have to check them out, though."

"Thank you, ma'am," Gibbs gave the woman a smile.

"The pleasure's all mine, sir," she replied with a slight giggle.

"Good to know you haven't lost your touch with the ladies, Gibbs," Kate muttered as they walked away. Gibbs had to smirk at her tone.

"I know. I'm with you, aren't I?" He barely contained his mirth when her face reddened a bit.

"Bastard." He had to laugh at that.

Ignoring Fornell's raised brow, Gibbs headed for the atrium. "There's a couple of conference rooms on the fourth floor. They're not used often, so that's probably where they're at."

Fornell nodded. "My agents will cover the front and back of the Club the best they can. We'll check out which one they're in, and cover both sides." He glanced at Hobbs and Kathy.

"Good to know," Gibbs replied mildly, pressing the elevator button, Fornell and his team taking the other elevator. A moment later, he was glancing down the largely-deserted hallway. Several black-and-white photographs of various figures were displayed on the walls, along with cushioned benches that were placed under them at intervals.

"I'm liking this more and more," Kate said, taking in the sight.

"Yeah, me too." Gibbs eyed the decorative, wood-carved beams on the ceiling. "Pity it's not easy to get in."

Kate quirked an eyebrow. "How come?"

"Well, if I recall correctly, there's a long waiting list and you gotta pay tens of thousands in dues when you join."

Kate paled a little. "That much money just to play some golf?"

"Pretty much," Gibbs chuckled as he walked through the hallway, looking for the conference room. The signs on the walls indicated that they were heading in the right direction, though.

"I have to admit, I'm surprised that you know this stuff."

Gibbs gave her a lopsided smile. "I'm a federal investigator, gotta be on top of things like that." He realized too late his choice of words.

"On top of things, huh?" The twinkle in Kate's eyes and her dimples made him swallow, and he continued the search. Turning the corner, he found it; the sign 'Conference Room A' hung above the closed door in the distance. Unholstering his Sig, Gibbs glanced at Kate before approaching the room, listening for any voices.

For a moment, he heard nothing. Just when he was about to turn around, the sounds of a fist hitting someone, followed by a pained groan, emanated from the room. Gibbs' eyes widened, and anger and concern began coiling in his gut.

"You do not need to make this any more difficult than it needs to be." A man spoke from inside the room. It was probably Siazon, presumably speaking to Ziva. "I've had Mr. Cord go lightly on him for your sake."

So that was the name of the blonde brute.

"Appreciate it," DiNozzo groaned. Gibbs shared a look as they took position next to the door.

"If you let him go, I'll tell you where the disk is." He heard Ziva say calmly. He had to smile at Ziva keeping her cool, no matter what the situation was.

"You will tell me either way," Siazon said. "Your friends at NCIS will not save you."

Surprise jolted through him as he exchanged looks with Kate again. How did Siazon know this? And how long had he known?

"Fornell, we found them. Conference Room A." Gibbs whispered into his jacket lapel.

"We will give you a moment to think about what you're going to say. Choose your next words carefully." he heard Siazon say. At the sounds of footsteps toward the door, Gibbs balled his left fist. As soon the door opened, he swung with all his might, sending Siazon careening to the floor.

"NCIS!" No sooner had he ran through the doorway than a large fist slammed right into his face with the force of a sledgehammer, sending him staggering back into the doorway, his Sig slipping from his hand. Pain exploded inside his nose, and he gritted his teeth. He felt someone grab the front of his jacket and yank him into the room. He barely heard Ziva and DiNozzo's worried yells as he skidded across the floor, rolling into his back.

Gunshots echoed throughout the room, followed by a pained yell and the sounds of a body hitting the floor.

"What the hell just happened?" He heard Fornell's voice, and he blinked several times, trying to get his bearing. Feeling someone at his side, he turned his head and found himself looking into her hazel eyes. Getting to his feet with Kate's help, Gibbs let out a groan at the throbbing pain in his nose. He was pretty sure it was broken.

As Kathy passed him the box of tissues she found on the conference table, Gibbs winced at the swollen and discolored left side of DiNozzo's face, and his bleeding nose and mouth. If the hit to his nose damn hurt, he couldn't imagine how DiNozzo was feeling right now.

"You hanging on, DiNozzo?" He asked, his voice sounding slightly muffled because he was holding several wads of blood-stained tissues to his nose.

"Just barely," the Special Agent groaned as Ziva tended to his wounds. It was when he finally noticed the body of the man who had slugged him in the face – Mr. Cord – lying on the floor, his chest riddled with several bullet holes. Spivey was standing nearby, being placed into handcuffs by Hobbs. Siazon himself was sprawled out near the doorway, unconscious.

Just like the last time, he thought to himself.

"Good thing we got here on time," Fornell remarked stoically. "How you holding up?"

"Just peachy," Gibbs mumbled as he left the room, escorted by Kate.

* * *

><p>"The emergency room seems to have done a pretty good job," Ducky commented as he examined DiNozzo's injuries. McGee, Ziva, and Chip were standing around his desk.<p>

Gibbs had to stifle a smirk as he reclined at his desk, Kate and Abby at his side. DiNozzo had loudly protested on the ride to the Naval Medical Center in Bethesda that he was doing fine, and that he didn't need any medical treatment. Only the threat of sedation, coupled with Ziva's glare, caused him to relent.

He'd held out a little longer, given the relatively mild nature of his injury – Hell, he'd been shot point-blank a few days ago, and it didn't require a trip to the ER – and it took the combined power of Kate and Ziva to break him down. It was there that he was reminded of why he'd utterly and completely despised hospitals all his life.

"How do you feel?" Ducky continued.

DiNozzo carefully pulled two tissue plugs from his nose and tossed them into a nearby trash can. "Better, now that I can breathe," he replied. Gibbs eyed the trash can before glancing at Chip. He'd have to have somebody toss out the trash as soon as possible.

Ducky nodded and turned to him. "How about you, Jethro?"

Gibbs gave a shrug. "I'll live." Kate, Abby, and the others smiled.

"Of course." Ducky had a bemused smile. "Well, there doesn't appear to be any permanent damage," the doctor examined DiNozzo's wounds one final time before heading over to Gibbs.

"Duck, I'm fine." Gibbs waved him away. Ducky gave him a mock disapproving look.

"Jethro, I am a doctor. I have to make sure—"

"Duck. I said I'm fine. They cleared me," Gibbs interrupted, wincing a bit from the dull pain in his nose.

Ducky nodded. "I shall take your words for now, but do let me know if it worsens or anything." Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"He won't," Kate remarked with a knowing smirk.

"That's true," Abby agreed, gesticulating with her hands a little. "He might be in excruciating pain, and he'd pass it off like it's nothing. He's built like that, being a battle-hardened soldier and all. Nothing fazes him, ever. Why, he would—"

"How many did he hit you?" Gibbs asked DiNozzo, who let out a soft groan.

"I'm not sure. I wasn't counting." The Special Agent reclined back in his chair.

"Ten times," Ziva supplied helpfully. Being punched by that man ten times straight… Gibbs felt his respect and sympathy for the Special Agent increase.

DiNozzo gave the Israeli a look. "I'm glad I filed for a divorce," he sneered. Ziva rolled her eyes, a small smile on her face. Gibbs couldn't help but smirk.

"We're gonna take good care of you, Tony," Abby reassured DiNozzo before turning to Gibbs. "And you too."

"Oh yeah, definitely," Kate grinned. Gibbs found himself distracted when Kate ran a hand through his hair. It felt kinda nice...

"Well, you can tuck me into bed, Katie," he quipped, causing Kate to blush and the others to chuckle. DiNozzo perked up, sitting up slightly. "What's this about Kate tucking the Boss into bed?" He looked intrigued.

"It's nothing," Kate replied, glaring at Gibbs. "The punch probably scrambled his mind." Gibbs simply smirked at her. DiNozzo looked like he didn't believe them, but thankfully he didn't press any further.

"I had Chip pull your car right around front," Abby spoke. DiNozzo's eyes widened and he sat up straighter.

"He drove my car?" he glanced at Chip. He treasured his 1966 Ford Mustang more than himself at times, calling it his "Baby" more than a few occasions. Pity, it was blown up during a case two years later. Gibbs frowned at the confusing use of past-future tense.

"Just from your parking space," Chip reassured him with a smile. "I took extra special care." Gibbs couldn't help but scowl at the assistant, knowing perfectly what he meant by 'extra special care'.

"Thanks." DiNozzo relaxed a little, although he still regarded Chip warily. Ziva held up the car keys.

"I'm driving you home," she said with a grin. DiNozzo looked horrified, while Kate held back a snigger.

"Probie," he turned to McGee, who sighed a little.

"Um, actually, you shouldn't drive him home tonight, Ziva."

The Israeli frowned, looking between McGee and DiNozzo. "Why not?"

"He wants to live," Gibbs replied. Ziva turned and gave him a look, her lips twitching slightly.

Ducky nodded. "Well, I suggest a couple of aspirin when you get home," he addressed DiNozzo and Gibbs.

"I'll stick to bourbon," Gibbs said.

"You mean the stuff that you call paint thinner?" Ducky replied, a slight smirk on his face. "I'm not supposed to prescribe alcohol, but I suppose this could be an exception."

"Yeah." Gibbs eyed the Marine medals pinned on the front of Ducky's tuxedo, and remembered that he had taken Jenny to the Marine ball the last time. "You taking the Director to the ball?"

Several eyebrows rose in surprise. "Why, yes, I am taking her. How did you know?" Ducky asked, giving him a curious look.

"He's Gibbs, he knows everything," Abby replied in a 'duh' tone.

"Not always," a female voice said, and Gibbs looked up at the source. He found himself swallowing involuntarily as Jenny walked down the stairs in a flowing black dress that showcased her curvaceous figure well.

"I am going to escort our lovely Director to the ball," Ducky announced as he went over to her and linked arms with her.

"Don't do anything I would do, Duck," Gibbs pointed out. Ducky and Jenny exchanged grins as they walked away.

"All right, I'm gonna head home now." DiNozzo spoke up a moment later, starting to get up from his desk. "Good night, boss—_woah_!" Ziva and McGee immediately went over to his side when he nearly stumbled. "All right, I'm good," the Special Agent wrapped his arm around Ziva's shoulders as they headed for the elevator. Abby and McGee went after them, leaving Gibbs alone with Kate.

"Go home, Katie." Gibbs cocked his head slightly. "Good night."

Kate continued to look at him, a small smile on her face, and Gibbs' gut began churning. It intensified when she leaned toward him.

"Happy birthday," she said softly before pressing her lips on the corner of his lips. He was surprised, yet touched by this, and it took all of his willpower not to turn his head ever so slightly and express his gratitude in return. That part of his lips continued to tingle after she pulled away.

"Awww!" Gibbs turned to see a grinning Abby leaning on the cubicle divider next to Kate's desk.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I've never been to the Congressional Country Club, so I took my liberty with the interior. Let me know of any mistakes or inconsistencies, and I'll correct them.


	23. Framing the Past

**A/N:** Oh yes, this will be the final chapter! *cackles evilly*

Kidding. Thanks for the reviews, though! Gibbs and Kate definitely sizzled in the first two seasons, and they will sizzle even more in this story! And speaking of zodiac signs, Gibbs and Kate would be compatible with each other (Gibbs is a Scorpio and Kate could be a Taurus if you use Sasha Alexander's birthdate). This would be the same even if Gibbs was a Virgo as well.

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. I also don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Frame-Up" (3.09), even although most of them have been altered to fit this story. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Three:<strong>  
>Framing the Past<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p><em>November 17, 2005<em>  
><em>7:05 AM<em>  
><em>NCIS Headquarters<em>  
><em>Washington, D.C.<em>

"Oh yeah, baby!"

Kate looked up from her report on her desk, a slightly annoyed expression on her face. Ziva averted her eyes from her book, titled 'The Handbook of American Idioms and Slangs'. McGee raised an eyebrow at the Special Agent.

DiNozzo was grinning as he stared at his computer, clicking away. "Oh, come on, come on!" He chanted. "Come on, come on!" His faced suddenly scrunched. "Oh, yikes. Changing now."

Heaving out a sigh, Kate put her pencil down. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Doing work, just like you should be," DiNozzo sneered, not looking at her.

"You? Work?" Ziva snickered as she returned to her book, turning a page. McGee stood up and walked over to the Special Agent's desk, craning his head slightly to look at the screen.

"JudgeMyTush-dot-com?" He recited, raising an eyebrow, his hands on his sides. DiNozzo jolted, grabbing a green file folder and covering his monitor screen with it. "Hey! A little privacy here, McSnoop." He shot the probationary agent a disapproving glare. McGee smirked as he turned around and returned to his desk.

Kate intertwined her hands together and leaned over at her desk. "How funny of you to say that, DiHypocrite," she sneered.

"Hey, what's wrong with a little fun?" DiNozzo put his hands out, one still holding the file folder, a grin on his face once again.

"Nothing...except when somebody gets hurt, which inevitably will happen when it comes to you," Ziva said flatly, her eyes not leaving her book.

"That's particularly true," McGee agreed, typing away at his computer.

Kate threw up her hands. "When will you grow up, DiNozzo?"

"When you loosen up, Kat-Kat," DiNozzo retorted, standing up from his desk and walking around it to the middle of the bullpen. "And speaking of which, what do you think?" He turned around to the side, lifted the hem of his button-up shirt, and stuck his posterior out to the brunette, who rolled her eyes and looked away.

"God, DiNozzo, you can be infantile at times," Kate muttered, keeping her eyes squarely on her computer monitor.

"At times?" Ziva raised an eyebrow, a smirk on her face. Kate glanced at her and nodded.

"Good point."

DiNozzo wiggled his butt. "C'mon, Kate. Gimme a rating."

"Nope, not playing that game. Gibbs might appear at any moment," Kate looked right at DiNozzo's eyes before shaking her head as if in realization. "Actually, you know what? Keep going."

"C'mon, Katie—"

Kate shot him a dark glare. "Don't call me that!"

"—it's not like I'm making you _touch_ it, aren't I?" DiNozzo continued as if Kate hadn't spoken, patting his own butt a couple of times.

"You might as well be," Kate deadpanned, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.

DiNozzo rolled his eyes, tossing his folder into his desk. It slid across the floor and fell to the floor. "You're no fun, Katie." He turned to Ziva. "Well? What do you think?" He reached behind his desk to retrieve the folder, showing his butt to her.

Ziva rolled her eyes before putting her book down. "Seeing that you will never give us a break until we tell you, I might as well bite." She narrowed her eyes as if in thought. "I give you...two," she said with a nod before picking the book up again.

"Two?" DiNozzo stood up, looking indignant. "Are you _kidding_ me?"

"She never kids," McGee pointed out, glancing at Ziva. DiNozzo ignored him, staring at the Mossad ninja.

"Two? Out of what?"

"Ten," Ziva clarified, chuckling. A smug smirk came across DiNozzo's face. "You mean I get a ten—"

"Two out of ten!" Ziva interrupted. DiNozzo slowly walked toward Ziva's desk, his eyes narrowing. "Oh, you wound me, milady."

"I do my best." Ziva turned another page from her book.

"We always do," Kate said with a cheeky grin as she put her elbows on her desk and rested her face on her hands.

DiNozzo turned toward McGee's desk. The agent let out a yelp of surprise as DiNozzo yanked him from his chair by his jacket and turned him around, showing his posterior at Kate and Ziva. "What would you rate him?" he challenged.

Ziva and Kate cocked their heads in thought.

"A four," they said at the same time, glancing at each other with a giggle. McGee blinked while DiNozzo's eyes widened, his brow furrowing.

"He gets a four while I get two?" He asked incredulously before shaking his head, his lips curling up a little. "Oh well, at least, Probie here—"

"Out of five," Ziva cut in and Kate snickered, covering her mouth with her hand. McGee laughed out loud as he walked back to his desk.

DiNozzo scowled. "That's not fair, girls."

"Actually, all is fair in, how you say it, love and warts?" Ziva flipped through her book, seemingly trying to find the correct idiom in the book.

"War," McGee corrected her. "It's war."

"Oh, it's on," DiNozzo growled through gritted teeth, glaring at McGee before turning to the women. "Let's try again. Give me a rating, and be fair this time!" He wiggled his butt at them once again.

"Continue doing that, DiNozzo, and I'll show you how fair I can be." Gibbs strode into the bullpen, and DiNozzo immediately straightened up, looking chagrined.

"Boss." He ignored the others' sniggering. "How's the nose?"

Gibbs shook his head as he headed to his desk. "Grab your gears, we're going to Quantico," he ordered as he grabbed his Sig from his drawer and holstered it. As he strode to the elevator, the team grabbed their respective gears, weapons, and jackets before following him.

"Two out of ten? Really?" DiNozzo grumbled, adjusting the strap of his gear.

Ziva cocked her head slightly. "Well, I subtracted three due to excessive butt hair."

"And five more for being your charming self," Kate piped in, and she exchanged high-fives with the Israeli. Gibbs let out a chuckle while DiNozzo's scowl deepened.

"That's not fair and you know it!" he protested, following them into the elevator.

"All's fair in love and war," Gibbs said. The others looked at him as the elevator doors closed.

* * *

><p>"Marines run tactics through these woods every day, sir," Sergeant Jarrod Brooks explained as he led the MCRT through the woods right outside the Marine Corps Base Quantico, brushing away the gnarled tree branches that obstructed their way. Gibbs nodded silently, remembering the grueling training he had undergone a long time ago. He glanced at Kate, and gave her a lopsided smile. She returned it.<p>

"What time yesterday?" He asked the Sergeant, referring to the emergency call last night.

"Nineteen-hundred, sir." Seven o'clock in civilian parlance.

Gibbs nodded as he brushed away a tree branch that nearly sideswiped Kate's face. "Thank you." She gave him a grateful smile.

"Don't mention it, and watch your step," Gibbs cautioned when they reached a couple of fallen trunks that blocked the trail, grabbing her wrist. He could never get enough of her smile, he thought as he carefully stepped over the trunks.

They reached a small, tranquil stream a moment later, and Brooks crossed it first. Kate turned to him, her dimples prominent. "Try not to fall in, okay?" She teased as she started to tread on the boulders dotting the river. However, her feet slipped on one of the slippery stones and she began stumbling. Gibbs instinctively reached out to grab her shoulders. This only caused him to lose his footing as well and they fell into the stream with a particular splash.

Taking a large breath and shaking the water from his face, Gibbs found that his arms had wrapped around her waist from behind, holding her close, his face close to hers. He had to admit that it felt nice holding her like that. Any urges to pull her in was, however, precluded when Kate broke out into giggles and he couldn't help but laugh along with her. His mind took him to the summer of 1977, when he and Shannon were walking alongside a stream near Stillwater one day. When she'd slipped, he tried to grab her, only to stumble into the river as well.

"That was quite a splash, I give it a ten." Gibbs blinked out of his thoughts to see a smiling Ducky sharing a glance with a bemused Ziva. Brooks was smirking, and DiNozzo and McGee had raised eyebrows. Realizing their position, and how they must've looked like, Gibbs reluctantly got up, helping Kate to her feet.

"Just for the record, I meant to do that," Kate said as she stepped into dry soil, wringing her drenched jacket. Gibbs gave her a smirk as he shook the water from his trousers. "Sure thing, Katie."

"It's that way," Sergeant Brooks resumed the trek to their destination. A moment later, they reached a small clearing where two pale, severed legs were visible.

"They were under this bush here, until I…uh…moved one to here," Sergeant Brooks explained, glancing uncertainly at Gibbs as he pointed toward a bush next to the remnant of a campfire that the teenagers had set up the night before. Gibbs looked at McGee and nodded. The probationary agent removed his pack and retrieved two yellow number tracker signs before placing them next to the legs.

"The teenagers?" Gibbs asked, getting a (thankfully waterproof) digital camera out, and taking a couple of pictures of the legs.

"They never noticed the legs, sir," Brooks replied.

"Kate, Ziva, bag and tag," Gibbs instructed. "DiNozzo, shoot. McGee, samples." The agents nodded as they proceeded to do their respective tasks.

"Well, it seems a liver temp is out of the question," Ducky remarked when Gibbs crouched next to the doctor, who was poring over one of the legs.

"Yeah, the rest of the body's missing," Gibbs remarked stoically.

Ducky gave him a small smile. "Well, from what I can see, the marbling on the skin indicates advanced decomposition," he explained, pointing across the limb. "But the complete lack of insect activity on the moist area of the open thigh indicates a cessation of decay."

Gibbs knew why. "How long?"

"It appears the muscles have gone through all three stages of rigor mortis, so I estimate at least forty-eight hours. But the legs are in pristine condition, apparently untouched by air, water, soil or insect."

Gibbs looked at the dark-red tissues at the point of the leg where it was severed. "Perhaps it was taken from a corpse in a freezer?"

Ducky nodded slowly. "It is a possibility, although I cannot imagine why somebody would do this."

"People are crazy," Gibbs said with a shrug. This was particularly true, from what he had experienced ever since joining NCIS (NIS by then) years ago. Ducky chuckled.

"Oh yes. You know, this reminds me of a case where the killer left body parts, along with cryptic messages, to taunt investigators. I suppose he was attempting to emulate the infamous Zodiac killer while adding his own unique style, flair, if you like. Unlike the Zodiac killer, however, he was caught and heaps of severed legs were discovered in his basement."

"Yeah, heard about that one. He was in high school, wasn't he?"

"Yes. It is a very sad time when high school students are committing grisly murders in this country. Do you know that a growing percentage of murders are being committed by—"

"I'm aware of that," Gibbs cut in, standing up and going over to Kate, Ziva, and DiNozzo, who seemed to be bickering among themselves.

"I'm not sure if you've heard, DiNozzo, but NCIS protocol mandates that we collect everything around the crime scene, even if it's trash," Kate was saying.

"Yeah, yeah, but in my years as an investigator, I've learned that trash indigenous to an area is not worth collecting," DiNozzo said in a patronizing tone.

"Even this?" Ziva held up something in her tweezers. It appeared to be the finger of a plastic glove.

"Kate's right," Gibbs commented, catching DiNozzo off-guard. He looked at the finger, knowing that Chip had planted it there to incriminate DiNozzo.

"I wasn't telling them not to look under indigenous stuff," DiNozzo said hastily, snapping a picture of the glove bit. Ziva blinked, having been nearly-blinded by the flash, and glared at the Special Agent.

"Sure you were," Kate smirked, holding the evidence bag out for Ziva to put the finger in.

"I want every paper, projectile, and stomped-on leaf within a ten-foot radius of both legs," Gibbs instructed, standing up and walking away to check on McGee.

As DiNozzo stared stonily at them, Kate and Ziva shared a giggle at his expense.

* * *

><p>As he left the elevator toward the Lab, Gibbs ruminated about how he would put a premature end to Chip Sterling's plans. The nefarious assistant had nearly succeeded in getting DiNozzo imprisoned the last time around, and he wasn't about to see his Special Agent behind bars again.<p>

Ducky had determined that the legs belonged to a female in her early twenties (the femur wouldn't finish growing until she reached the age of twenty-five), and found a strange sticky substance at the ankle of the left leg. "See how my glove sticks here? It's on its way to Abby's mass spectrometer," he'd said. Part of the skin on the upper thigh of the right leg was meticulously cut away, although Ducky mentioned he would be able to get a teeth impression from it. As important as the information was, however, it didn't bring them any closer to finding the perpetrator.

But at least, he had managed to toss the bloodied nose plugs away. It would make Chip's work more difficult.

"Gibbs!" He had to smirk at Abby's happy tone. "All these evidence and a Caf-Pow!" The Lab Rat cocked her head to the side. "Is it my birthday?"

Gibbs gave her the Caf-Pow! "Pretend it's mine."

Abby rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Wasn't it a week ago?" She then grinned. "But okay, today's your second birthday! If anyone deserves that, it's you!"

"What else do you got for me?" He rumbled.

"Okay!" As soon Abby turned around and went over to her monitor, Gibbs scowled at Chip, who shifted on his feet. As he half-listened to Abby explain something about working on the strange, sticky substance, Gibbs thought about how much he would like to take Chip down, right now and then. The aforementioned assistant visibly gulped under the Glare.

"Here's your real present," Abby continued. The fingerprint identification program was running on her computer, rapidly comparing fingerprints against the fingerprint on the left-side screen. "I found—" The Lab Rat turned around, only to furrow her brow. "Gibbs? You okay?"

Gibbs broke the one-sided, impromptu 'staring match' with Chip and stepped to her side. "You found what, Abs?" He ignored the curious stare Abby was giving him.

"I found a smudged print on the top of the glove finger, clarified it into a partial print, and ran it through AFIS." Abby then wrapped her arms around him and hugged tightly. "Happy second birthday!"

Gibbs could only smile, patting her on the shoulder. "Who was it?" He asked, already knowing the answer. Abby grinned as she tapped on her keyboard. A profile record appeared on the overhead monitor.

It was DiNozzo.

Gibbs looked at Abby's flabbergasted face. There was another reason for wanting to stop Chip early. The forensic scientist had been devastated because her work had put DiNozzo in jail in the first place, and it nearly caused her to lose faith in her work. Were it not for Abby's stubborn determination to exonerate DiNozzo despite the 'evidence' against him, the Special Agent would've spent the rest of his life in prison. This was unforgivable in his eyes.

"Get DiNozzo over here." His voice betrayed none of the anger and hatred he felt toward Chip.

"T-Tony? It can't be...how's that possible?" Abby stuttered, her eyes glued to the screen.

Gibbs looked over at Chip, clenching his jaw. The assistant twitched once again and glanced at the door. "Um, I'll go get him." The assistant beat a hasty retreat from the room. Feeling slightly relieved, Gibbs stepped over to Abby, who turned to look at him with widened eyes.

"I-it can't be possible...Tony's not like that, he would never…it's simply not possible—"

"It's not him," Gibbs said softly, confident that his future knowledge would be disguised as a 'Gibbs thing'. Her words, by the way. "DiNozzo isn't the culprit."

Abby blinked. "You sure? How do you—"

"Remember I told you to keep an eye on your assistant?"

Abby nodded. "Yes, but I haven't seen anything out of the ordinary. I mean, he's kinda weird, but he's doing a pretty good job..." she trailed off, her eyes rounding a bit. "You don't mean...?"

Gibbs nodded. "Things aren't what they look like. DiNozzo's being framed."

"Chip? Chip did this?" Abby shook her head disbelievingly. "So that's why he was saying bad stuff about Tony before...oh man, why didn't I see that? I should've known! I always had this weird vibe from him ever since he appeared here, and by weird, I mean weird bad. Like this aura stuff that swirls around you, you know?" She gesticulated to make her point before turning to him pointedly. "Why would he do this?"

"Long story, tell you later. Can you keep it between us for now?" Despite her tendency to babble at times, Abby was surprisingly good at keeping secrets, or at least when he asked it of her. At Abby's small nod, Gibbs kissed her on the top of her head.

"Boss, you called for me?" DiNozzo said by way of greetings when he entered the Lab a moment later, followed by Kate, Ziva, McGee, and Chip.

Gibbs nodded toward the overhead monitor. "Take a look."

DiNozzo's eyes widened as he saw his own picture on the screen, a blinking green 'POSITIVE MATCH' screen over his fingerprint record. The others likewise looked surprised at the sight.

"What's this?"

"Abby found a partial fingerprint on the bit of rubber glove you found at the screen. It's yours," Gibbs replied.

DiNozzo shook his head slowly. "How's that possible? I don't remember wearing gloves at a crime scene there recently, much less ripping one."

"When was the last time you worked a crime scene there?"

"Napolitano case, boss." He was referring to the case involving the Napolitano crime family last year, where a shady FBI agent working as their mole had framed Fornell for their crimes. DiNozzo had been dispatched to Quantico, among with the others, to canvass the crime scene there. Gibbs realized that the mole had, coincidentally, shared the same first name as Chip (Charles).

Abby turned to her computer, still looking shaken, but not as much as before. "The computer only found three points from your fingerprint to the sample," she explained, glancing at the Special Agent. "Most prosecutors want eleven."

"Um, technically, Abby, the minimum to go to court is one," Chip spoke up, and they turned to him. DiNozzo gave him a look, while Gibbs and Abby had glares on their faces. "Um, I'm just s-saying that, you know, people have been convicted on less."

"You know something we don't?" Gibbs growled, fisting his hands at his sides, not seeing Kate give him a curious look.

Chip shook his head. "No, just saying."

DiNozzo looked thoughtfully. "You set this up, didn't you?" Chip looked like a deer in the highlights.

"Oh please! I would never do that," Ziva scoffed, looking indignant at DiNozzo's question. "Okay, maybe I would, but I didn't." Gibbs knew she was telling the truth.

The Special Agent nodded slowly, turning to Kate. "It was you, wasn't it? You've been taking potshots at poor me all day."

Kate let out an incredulous laugh, putting her hands up. "As if I'd put that much effort on _you_ of all people."

"You accuse her of something like that," Gibbs cut in when DiNozzo was about to make a retort. "You'd _damn_ better have something to back it up."

DiNozzo nodded hastily. "Got it, boss."

On the screen, the center of DiNozzo's purported fingerprint, with three circle indicators, flashed blue, further confirming the match. "It matches Tony." Abby glanced at Gibbs.

"Put a rush on these blood samples."

"I did, but it would take at least sixteen hours."

"Make it twelve," Gibbs replied, turning to DiNozzo. "When's the last time you were at the dentist?" The Special Agent looked at him in confusion, while Kate grinned in realization.

"Now _that_ I gotta see."

* * *

><p>"Is this really necessary, Doc?" DiNozzo stared at the purple-and-green dental mold in a horseshoe-shaped mouthpiece tray that Ducky was holding in front of his face.<p>

"Yes. This is far faster and more accurate than X-rays," Ducky replied. "Now open wide."

"You couldn't happen to have peppermi—_urk_! The Special Agent nearly choked when Ducky all but shoved the tray into his mouth. "Hold still, this will take only a minute," Ducky pressed the mouthpiece against DiNozzo's upper mouth cavity, causing DiNozzo's head to move a little with the motion.

"This is awesome." Kate was struggling to hold in her laughter.

"Yes, somebody should take pictures," Ziva remarked, a wide grin on her face. Kate's face lit up in realization.

"Oh yes! Lemme get my cell..." she reached into her pockets. Her eyes widened a bit. "I left it at my desk..." she sounded and looked dismayed. A hand held a cell phone in front of her face.

"Use mine," Gibbs said with a half-smirk. Kate smiled at him gratefully as she took it and flipped it open and held it toward DiNozzo.

"Hey DiNozzo! Say cheese!" Kate clicked away. The Special Agent shot her a glare, trying to say something, but it came out completely unintelligible.

Several seconds later, Ducky began wiggling the mouthpiece from DiNozzo's mouth. When it didn't budge, he grabbed hold of the Special Agent's chin and pulled harder, When the mold moved a little, Ducky then put his hand on DiNozzo's face and pulled harder, managing to extricate it from his mouth.

"You're not known for your bedside manners, aren't you?" DiNozzo smacked his lips, looking slightly disgusted. "And I think you loosened one of my fillings..."

Ducky shrugged. "Well, I am a doctor. What do you expect?"

"Some peppermint, for one thing," came the reply.

Ducky chuckled as he passed the mouth mold to McGee, who then placed it under a scanning device connected to a laptop. Abby activated her 3-D reconstruction program. "Okay, here's Tony," she said as the mouthpiece gradually materialized on the monitor. "The program uses laser scans of 3-D objects to create 3-D images for comparison."

"Computer-generated hollow volume overlay," Chip said. "Measures inter-tooth spacing, dental arc, tooth—"

"We get it!" Gibbs snapped, and Chip unwittingly fell silent.

"Here's Ducky's muscle-tissue scan," Abby said with a smile as the 3-D object was replaced by a picture of a bite-mark on the victim's leg. "With a little 3-D magic—" The scan tilted. "—and I give you the killer's incisors." She turned to DiNozzo. "And don't worry, Tony, the chances of even one of your teeth matching are, like, a hundred thousand in one." She said the last part with a glance at Gibbs, who nodded.

A 3-D mouth appeared above the bite marks and descended upon it, as if taking a bite out of it. As soon the virtual teeth made contact with the mark, however, the word 'MATCH' rapidly appeared on every tooth, the model rotating to show as such.

Silence descended upon the room.

"Well, I think we found our killer," Ziva said. DiNozzo gave her a dirty look.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Fun fact: Michael Weatherly lost a filling during the mouthpiece mold scene and had to go to the dentist afterwards.


	24. Past Suspicions

**A/N:** Here's the update, read and enjoy. Thanks once again for the reviews, they keep me going. :)

As always, reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. I also don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Frame-Up" (3.09), even although most of them have been altered to fit this story. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Four:<strong>  
>Past Suspicions<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>"Boss, I didn't do it."<p>

"I know." Gibbs left the elevator, Kate, Ziva, DiNozzo, and McGee following him into the squad room. DiNozzo had been loudly protesting his innocence, one way or another, and it was beginning to grate on his nerves. Even so, he couldn't exactly blame the Special Agent.

He'd been in that position before, after all.

"I wouldn't! Why would I kill a woman and sever her—wait, you _know_?"

Gibbs turned to see DiNozzo's surprised face, and the others peering at him curiously. "Yeah," he gave a nonchalant shrug. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Good question," Kate said with a twinkle in her eyes. Gibbs half-smiled at her before heading over to his desk. "We got anything so far?" he asked, looking at the others.

"Um, we found that the victim was five-feet, eight-inches, and weighed approximately one-hundred and twenty-five pounds," McGee said with a glance at DiNozzo.

Gibbs let out an exasperated sigh. "Anything _useful_?"

"According to the Sergeant, there were no missing female dependents at Quantico or UA Marines," Kate said, reading from her report. UA stood for unauthorized absence.

"Mhm, did you try the base hospital?"

"Already did," Kate replied with a nod. "Still nothing."

"Good girl," Gibbs said. Kate shook her head, a bemused smile on her face, as she turned her attention to the various reports that littered her desk.

"We checked missing persons for Maryland, Virginia, and DC. There were a few similar descriptions, but it is not very much," Ziva spoke in turn, looking at her PDA. "Their DNA is on the way here now."

Gibbs looked over at DiNozzo, who was scribbling something on a piece of paper. "What ya doing, DiNozzo?"

"Somebody's setting me up," the Special Agent replied, glancing at him. "I was trying to think of arrestees with grudges." He poked his right temple with the eraser end of his pencil to accentuate his point.

"That's gonna be quite a long list," Kate remarked, glancing up. "Did you include anyone who simply hates you?" DiNozzo shot her a glare.

"This isn't funny, Kate," he muttered, returning to his paper. "My job and life's on the line. And besides, nobody hates me."

"Paula Cassidy might disagree with you on that," McGee said. DiNozzo turned and pointed a finger at him.

"Ah! Don't go there, McHater. People like me, I'm a nice guy." Kate and Ziva stifled their laughter, and the Special Agent put his hands up. "What? I'm serious, they do like me!" This only caused them to snigger harder.

"Mhmm, I'm sure Pam Kim liked you enough to post your picture on a herpes-alert website," McGee said.

Kate looked like she was trying to remember that name. "Pam Kim?"

"The receptionist lady we met at a hospital during the Jeremy Davison serial-rapist case last year," DiNozzo replied, albeit reluctantly. Kate's eyes rounded in realization.

"Oh! That lady who shot you down because she was engaged?"

"Still is." Kate's eyebrows rose at this.

"You mean...?"

DiNozzo shook his head. "Not that! Jeez, have a _little_ faith in me, will you? She left her fiance to be with me. Needless to say, it didn't work out in the end, so she went back to him and the rest is history."

Kate nodded slowly, a grin coming across her face. "She actually put you on that website?"

DiNozzo grimaced. "You try explaining to your dates that you don't have herpes. Apparently, that kind of stuff travels faster than you think, and don't you make jokes about that, traitor!"

The brunette put her hands up, not taking umbrage. "Hey, I wouldn't do that to a sufferer." DiNozzo gave her a flat-eyed stare, ignoring McGee and Ziva's attempts to stifle their chuckles.

"Adding Kate to the list." He scribbled her name on the list. Kate rolled her eyes.

"She also egged DiNozzo's car," McGee said helpfully. The Special Agent glared at him.

"And McTattle as well," he grumbled, scribbling on the paper once more.

"Who else's on the list?" Gibbs asked, mentally going over a list of possible suspects. Aside from Chip, he was pretty sure there was someone else, but the name eluded him.

"Mike Macaluso, Kevin Mill—" McGee leaned over DiNozzo's shoulder to read the list, only for the Special Agent to cover it with his hand.

"Hey, hey, I make the list, so I read it," the Special Agent made a shooing gesture at the probationary agent before returning to his list. "Ehm, as I was about to say...the names are Mike Macaluso—"

"Who's that?" Kate interrupted. DiNozzo scowled.

"He's the Mafia boss DiNozzo busted in Baltimore years ago," Gibbs replied, looking at his computer monitor.

"Yeah, they get really touch when they think of you as family, and you turn out to be a cop," DiNozzo said with a sigh. Apparently, DiNozzo had got a bit too good at infiltrating the crime family, gaining the trust of the Mafia boss in the process, and this must've compounded the betrayal Macaluso felt when his 'family member' wasn't who he was. The man had cursed DiNozzo in Italian when he was dragged away by the FBI, using language that, if translated, would've made Joe Pesci blush.

"What about that forensics guy that you got fired?" Gibbs turned his head at Ziva's question. That sounded familiar for some reason.

"I didn't arrest him, Zee-vah," DiNozzo replied defensively, adding another name to the list and then immediately crossing it out.

Ziva raised a finger. "Ah, but you really, really pissed him off, yes?" the Israeli stood up from her desk and walked over to DiNozzo's desk, putting her hands on it and leaning over slightly.

"Like everyone else that he gets in contact with," Kate chirped.

"What happened?" the Israeli asked, standing up.

"Forensic tech set a killer free when he contaminated some blood samples," McGee explained. "DiNozzo here reported him, and he got fired. His name was George Stewart."

Gibbs widened his eyes. Chip had worked in a lab that performed specialized work contracted by the Baltimore Police Department's main lab. In his lawsuit, Stewart had claimed that the lab had actually contaminated the samples, and once Stewart won his case, Chip's lab was shut down and he was out of a job.

Hence his quest for revenge.

"Do a search on Stewart, I want everything on him," Gibbs ordered, standing up. He would have to talk with the Director right away. The sealed records of Stewart's case would be an immense boon to the investigation, if he played his cards right and got them unsealed quicker.

Kate looked a bit confused. "What about the other possible suspects on the list?" she asked.

Gibbs shook his head. "Not important. As of this moment, Stewart's your highest priority." He left the bullpen, heading for the stairs.

* * *

><p>"I assume you have something to tell me about the case you're working on," Jenny said by way of greetings when Gibbs entered the office.<p>

"More like ask, actually," Gibbs corrected, closing the door and turning to the Director, who stood up from her desk.

"It wouldn't have something to do with DiNozzo being the culprit, does it?" Jenny walked around the desk to stand in front of him. Gibbs was taken back. How did she know? He hadn't told anyone of this yet, apart from his team, and he'd only 'found out' the 'truth' not fifteen minutes ago.

"You got ears all over this building?"

Jenny had a knowing smile on her face. "I have my ways. You're not the only one who knows everything, Jethro." At that point, Gibbs realized how she had done it.

"I'd like to make a request, Jen," Gibbs said, opting not to humor her by telling her about DiNozzo's framing yet. The last time he did that, she had 'suspended' him from the investigation and turned it over to the FBI. This led to DiNozzo's disastrous interrogation and incarceration in a FBI holding cell in the end.

He would catch Hell for this when she inevitably found out, but hey, he would gladly take one for the team.

Jenny quirked an eyebrow, leaning against her desk. "What would that be?"

Gibbs licked his lips, hoping she would carry out the request and not ask too many questions. "I'd like the records from the 'George Stewart versus Baltimore Police Department' case."

"You do realize that case's still sealed, right?" Jenny said after a moment. Gibbs gave a small shrug.

"Thought you'd unseal it."

Jenny surveyed him for a moment once again. "I'd have to kiss some asses on the Hill along the way to get it, you know that?"

Gibbs cocked his head. "Well, you're pretty good at it."

The ends of Jenny's lips twitched. "I'm pretty good at castration as well." Despite himself, Gibbs let out a rumble of laughter.

"Good thing I've still got my balls," he quipped, causing Jenny to smirk.

"You're lucky I didn't cut them off in Paris." Jenny pushed herself off the desk, straightening up. "You find anything so far?"

Some future knowledge wouldn't hurt. "We're investigating George Stewart, who was a forensic tech who worked at Baltimore Police Department. He apparently contaminated some blood samples, got fired for it. Sued the state for wrongful termination of employment and won. By then, he was unemployable."

Jenny gave him a searching look that made him feel slightly exposed. "Why do I have this feeling that there's something more to that?"

"Well, we think he might've had something to do with the legs we found at the crime scene," Gibbs replied. "DiNozzo reported him, after all."

"Did he actually?" Jenny was referring to Stewart.

"We're still, ah, working on that."

"Assuming you get the court records, how could they help you out? You already know a bit about him."

Damn. Gibbs tried to think of anything that wouldn't involve DiNozzo's situation. He had found out about Chip after finding his picture in the records the last time, and he couldn't exactly voice his 'suspicions' about the assistant, not especially when he had very little to back it up.

"As I said, he _apparently_ contaminated the samples, and we want to determine whether he actually did it or not," he replied. "Wouldn't want to give him a reason to sue NCIS for giving him grief like that, do we?"

A smirk came across Jenny's face. "You alone give pretty much everyone a reason to sue NCIS every day."

Gibbs shook his head, chuckling. "So, you'll do it?"

Jenny nodded slowly. "I'll see what I can do. No guarantees, however." She walked around her desk and sat down. Gibbs, however, knew the Director would do her best to get the results. Despite her skepticism, she always came through for him, one way or another.

"Appreciate it, Jen." Gibbs went over to the door. "I owe ya one."

"You owe me several favors, actually," the Director called out. "Expect me to call in one of them someday." Gibbs gave her a half-smirk before leaving.

* * *

><p>"Hey Gibbs." A slim, balding man dressed in a sharp suit greeted as he walked past the stairs.<p>

"Hey Brant," Gibbs inclined his head, going into step alongside the agent. "Heard you were quitting."

Special Agent David Brant chuckled as he headed toward the elevator. "I like to refer to it as a lateral move into the recreational sector."

"Don't we all? Best of luck with that." Gibbs turned into the bullpen.

"Lateral move into the recreational sector?" DiNozzo looked confused, glancing from his computer.

"Fishing and hitting a golf ball for the most part," Gibbs explained, heading over to his desk and typing away at his computer without sitting down.

"In other words, retirement," Kate clarified.

Gibbs nodded. "Tell me you've found something on Stewart." He looked around at his agents.

"As a matter of fact, we did." McGee spoke up. A scan of an identification card appeared on the plasma, depicting the man dressed in what appeared to be a lab coat.

"He was the forensic tech DiNozzo got fired from Baltimore P.D.," the probationary agent continued, glancing around at his co-workers. "Lost everything when DiNozzo accused him of contaminating blood samples in 2001."

"Define 'everything'," Gibbs prompted.

"Wife, kids, house, job," Kate filled in for McGee. "He fought the firing in court. He won, but by then, no one would hire him. He disappeared two years ago."

"Sounds like a valid motive to frame DiNozzo for the severed legs," Ziva commented.

"That's not all, though," McGee said. "It turns out that he had legally changed his last name. It's Petrie now."

Gibbs looked at McGee. "Is that all?"

"Well, um, it took some digging, but—"

"He now works at the Hampton Medical Center in Hampton, Virginia," DiNozzo interjected, giving the Probie a smug look.

"Bring him in, and get a warrant as well," Gibbs instructed. "Take Ziva with you."

DiNozzo grinned, starting to get up from his desk. "Will do, boss—"

"Not you. You're a suspect," Gibbs cut him off, and DiNozzo slumped back onto his chair, looking deflated. "McGee, you know what to do."

"Getting a warrant," the probationary agent nodded, picking his phone up. Gibbs turned to DiNozzo. "I want you to copy the data from your hard drive, cell phone, everything."

The Special Agent blinked. "Uh, what for?" Gibbs' gaze hardened, and DiNozzo all but withered. "Er, copying everything now," he turned to the computer.

"Good." Gibbs headed over to the elevator. He was surprised when Kate appeared besides him a moment later.

"Miss me?" He quipped, pressing the elevator button. Given what he had to do, Gibbs contemplated ordering Kate to stay here and help DiNozzo out, but judging by the look in her eyes, she had made up her mind and there was no point trying to persuade her otherwise.

Kate gave him a grin. "Didn't want to be alone with DiNozzo," the former Secret Service agent explained as she followed him into the elevator. "After Ziva and McGee leave, y'know."

Gibbs could understand that, given what had transpired earlier. "Ah, wouldn't want the FBI investigating a murder, do we?" He couldn't help but note the slight irony in his statement.

Kate narrowed her eyes at him. "There might be two," she retorted, slapping him on his bicep. Gibbs gave her a grin. The silence in the elevator was very companionable afterwards.

"Gibbs! Kate!" He had to smile at Abby's bubbly tone when they entered the Lab a moment later. He ignored Chip, who looked up from the evidence bags he had been handling.

"Found anything so far, Abs?" He gave the Lab Rat a knowing gaze, which she returned.

"Not very much," Abby gestured at the evidence bags that covered the evidence table. "We've been cataloging all our evidence. I mean, the evidence we found at the crime scene, that is. I did the DNA search on several databases as well. CODIS, rare disease databases, that kind of stuff. It's still ongoing, but I didn't find much."

When she subtly darted her eyes toward Chip, he understood. At his nod, Abby turned to Chip, a slightly forced smile on her face. "You've done a good job today, Chip. You may take a break now."

Chip furrowed his brow as he looked at all of them. "Ma'am—um, Abby?"

Abby's smile strained. "Well? Why are you still standing there?" She put her hands on her waist.

Chip looked lost for words, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times. "Uh, I—"

"I just gave you a break, Chipper!" Abby exclaimed, cutting him off. Gibbs didn't miss a dark look that briefly came across Chip's name at the play on his much-hated nickname. "When I give you a break, you're _supposed_ to take it, not stand there with that look!"

"Um, it's just that, uh, you've never given me a break before..." Chip mumbled, fiddling with one of the evidence bags.

"Well, there's a first time for everything. I'm giving you a break now, don't squander it. Now _shoo!_ We have work to do." She made a shooing motion with her arms toward the door.

"She just gave you a break," Gibbs growled when Chip was about to protest. "I suggest you take it." At Gibbs' threatening step forward, Chip hastily nodded.

"Um, thank you for the break, Abby. I'll be going now." He scurried from the room.

"You sure have a way with people," Kate said with a laugh.

"I do, don't I?" He gave her his lopsided smile.

"Thank God he's gone," Abby sighed in relief, her shoulders drooping. "It was difficult to focus on work when he—" Abby trailed off, her eyes widening a bit when they settled on Kate. She went over to the door and closed it.

"First of all," she began, turning around and striding over to them, holding up a finger. "I want you to know that I've been practically _dying_ to know the rest of the story." A beat. "And secondly, have you told her?" She pointed at Kate, who looked confused.

"Um, tell me what?" She looked back and forth between Gibbs and Abby.

Gibbs took a moment to choose his next words carefully. Abby seemed to accept his words so far, even although he had never actually outright identified Chip as the perpetrator, but he knew his Katie was very perceptive and would ask questions about how he came to that conclusion. Given that he didn't yet have direct evidence of Chip's wrongdoing, and that he couldn't exactly cite his infamous gut feeling too often, he hoped that she would accept what he had to say.

"A question, Katie: do you think DiNozzo would actually commit that crime?" Gibbs decided to go that route.

Kate mulled over the question. "No," she said after a moment. "I don't think he would do it. I mean, he may have his...moments, but he wouldn't do that to someone, particularly a woman."

Gibbs nodded. "His prints were found on a piece of plastic glove that was left at Quantico, and DiNozzo hadn't examined a crime scene there since last December. Ducky mentioned that the legs we found at the crime scene were there for at least two days."

"In order to commit the crime, DiNozzo would have to disappear for days at a time, and he's been working nights this week," Kate said. "Although someone might say that he might've gone there during the weekend."

"Not when he was recently beaten to an inch of his life," Abby piped in. "Well, not exactly that bad, but you get the idea. He wouldn't be able to carry out the crime due to his injuries."

"The legs were in pristine condition when we found them," Gibbs unconsciously used Ducky's words. "They weren't touched by air, water, soil, or insect – and they were in a heavily-wooded area. What do you think would've caused them to be that way?"

Kate's eyes lit up in realization. "A morgue freezer."

"We have one right here in NCIS, and the last female there was Sophie Ranier – and she definitely had her legs. The victim had been dead for some time before her legs were cut off," Gibbs explained.

"Are you saying that DiNozzo could've been framed?"

Gibbs cocked his head. "It's a possibility."

"And Gibbs knows who it is," Abby said. Gibbs smiled at her tendency to overstate his abilities before a thought struck him. Gesturing for them to follow him, he made his way to the adjoining room. "I've had some suspicions," he said, emphasizing the last word. "That the assistant of hers might have been behind it all."

Kate's brow furrowed. "Chip? It's Chip?"

"Like I said, it's a possibility," Gibbs replied, sharing a look with Abby. "Somebody would have to have considerable knowledge in forensic science in order to frame DiNozzo like that." He gazed at Kate, trusting her to connect the dots like that.

"There are three persons on this floor who have the knowledge to pull this off. Abby wouldn't do it—"

"That's right! I would _never_ do that, ever!" Abby said emphatically, a determined expression on her face.

"—and Ducky's not the kind of person to do that." Gibbs braced himself when Kate looked at him.

"Do you have any evidence that Chip did it?" This was the question that he had been dreading.

"Ah...still working on it." He mentally head-slapped himself, doubting Kate would accept that explanation just like that. If Jenny hadn't believed his assertions about Ari Haswari – hatred welled up inside him at the thought of that name – especially when he had nothing concrete to back that up, why would Kate do so?

"Mhm." Kate continued to look at him thoughtfully. Gibbs swallowed; what these hazel orbs could do to him...

"I do!" Abby spoke up, raising her hand. "Although that's probably circumstantial evidence, and that won't stand in court—_no_! Don't think like that! Bad Abby!" The Lab Rat gave herself a couple of headslaps as if to clear the thought away. Gibbs and Kate shared a smile.

"He mentioned something about having a problem with Tony, and kept on complaining about him. I chalked it to Tony's tendency to give new people grief, y'know?" Her eyes widened in realization. "Is that why he's doing this to Tony?" Abby looked angered. "Because he couldn't take some jokes? Tony gives Tim grief sometimes, and you don't see him plotting revenge!"

"McGee's not Chip," Gibbs said. Thank God for that. The way DiNozzo – hell, the _entire_ team – had treated him over the years, McGee would've had ample reason to strike back at the Special Agent in some way. Instead, he and DiNozzo became best friends.

"You know, I thought it was kinda strange for Director Shepard to get Abby an assistant," Kate said thoughtfully. "She've been doing fine by herself for years, why change that?" She was immediately wrapped in Abby's hug.

"_Exactly!_ I've been working alone for years, and with great results to show for it. Why would I need an assistant? Not many people apply for a forensic science assistant here in NCIS. In fact, many tend to apply somewhere else." She then stepped back, rubbing her chin. "You know, in hindsight, I probably shouldn't have mentioned that I do the work of ten people when I asked for a raise..."

Gibbs chuckled as he flipped the switch, and the elevator rumbled to life. "We all need a raise sometimes."

"So, what do we have to do to earn that raise?" Gibbs' eyebrows rose at Kate's question.

"You're not going to question me, Katie?" He was relieved, yet confused.

Kate's lips curled up. "Do you want me to?" At Gibbs' chuckle, she continued. "Most of what you said here are circumstantial, but it does merit an investigation. Isn't that what we do for a living?"

"Among other things, yeah."

"Wait, you haven't told us the rest of the story!" Abby gave him a pointed look.

"No time, we got work to do." Gibbs walked back into the main area.

"But...?" Abby prompted, following him.

"I will tell you. I promise."

Abby pointed at him. "I'm holding you to that." Gibbs and Kate shared a chuckle.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Fun Fact: David Brant was the real-life Director of NCIS, who retired shortly after the episode aired.


	25. The Past Out of Frame

**A/N:** Here's the update, and let me tell you, writer's block is NOT fun, and I have the scars to prove it. Hope you like. Thank you for the reviews, they help heal the scars.

You know how I feel about reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. I also don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Frame-Up" (3.09), even although most of them have been altered to fit this story. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Five:<strong>  
>The Past Out of Frame<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>"This is harassment!" A harried George Stewart, also known as Petrie, protested when Gibbs entered the Interrogation room, holding a file folder in his hand.<p>

"That's what they all tell me." Gibbs took a seat across from the forensic technician, flipped the folder open, and began thumbing through the documents. The sooner he got this over with, the better.

Stewart threw his hands up. "I told your agents everything! What more do you need?" Apparently, Ziva had done a pretty damn job drilling the medical examiner. The man had tried to put up some resistance at first, but he'd quickly folded in the end.

Gibbs fixed him a look that made Stewart fidget in his chair. "An explanation why you cut the Jane Doe's legs off." He placed two photographs, one normal and one infrared, in front of Stewart, whose eyes widened at the sight of the legs.

"I didn't do it! Why the hell would I do such a thing? I was as surprised as these agents of yours were!" The man looked up, a bewildered expression on his slightly pudgy face.

Gibbs knew perfectly that the man was telling the truth. Outwardly, he continued to look at Stewart, who squirmed slightly under the scrutiny. "The Jane Doe was in your morgue."

"I know, but I didn't do it! I-I would tell you everything and then some, I _swear!_" Sweat began forming on Stewart's forehead, and whatever satisfaction Gibbs might've felt evaporated when the man's foul breath wafted across the desk. He clenched his jaw, suppressing the gag reflex. "But I don't know what else to tell you other than that I'm innocent!" Stewart shook his head, wiping his brow. "Man, this is like the last time."

"What happened?"

Stewart looked at him, a glimmer of hope in his beady eyes. "Cops wanted a quick look around without a warrant. A few questions, they said. The next thing I know, I'm arrested, I get fired, and my life is ruined!"

Gibbs nodded, not really feeling sorry for the man. "Why were you fired?"

"I apparently messed up some blood samples," Stewart replied with a shrug. "But I didn't do it! I sent them to a lab. They're the one to blame, not me."

Now they were going somewhere. "What's the name of the lab?"

"Pemberton Medical Analysis."

Now satisfaction came over Gibbs, and he noted the name in the back of his mind. "How'd you get found out?"

Stewart grimaced. "A cop reported me, accused me of screwing up a case. Name was DiNozzo." He spat the name out as if it was venom.

Just what he thought. Gibbs opened his mouth to say, "You say you're innocent, but framing a NCIS agent isn't the way to prove that." He rifled through the folder once again, pretending to read through them.

The medical examiner stared at him for a long moment, looking like he was trying to figure out what he meant. "A NCIS agent?" His eyes widened. "You mean to say...that bastard's in NCIS? What else did he say about me now?"

Gibbs had to hold back a smirk as he looked up at Stewart's angered face. "Nothing, actually. Somebody's trying to frame him for the severed legs, and we found the body in your morgue. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together." The implication hung heavily in the air.

Sweat glistened on Stewart's face as he frantically shook his head. "No! I already told you, I didn't do it! I-I...Look there, I know this looks bad, given my..._views_ toward that bast—DiNozzo, my profession, and the body, but I swear I didn't do all this! I'm not trying to frame anyone here, _honestly!_"

Gibbs squinted a little. "You sure?"

"Absolutely positive!" Stewart nodded emphatically. "The body arrived at the Medical Center a few days ago, and I can tell you that she was in one piece when I signed off on her."

That was a rather interesting choice of words, Gibbs thought. "When?"

"Last Tuesday, after I did the autopsy. The body arrived the day before," Stewart replied, having calmed down a little.

"You think something might've happened to the body afterwards?"

Stewart shrugged. "It might've. Whoever did this is the true culprit."

Without a word, Gibbs stood up, put the photographs into the folder, tossed the medical examiner a foil packet containing two mint gum pallets, and left the room.

"What's your take?" He asked when Kate and DiNozzo stepped out of Observation.

"If I didn't know better, I'd have said that he was lying, based on the way he was acting," the brunette replied, standing close to him. The vanilla-strawberry scent that swirled around him was a very welcome change. "But his statements seem to correspond with the evidence that we have so far."

"I don't know, Kate," DiNozzo said, glancing at the closed Interrogation door. "He seems particularly bitter toward me, especially when I outed him in the first place. I think he might've done it." The last time around, Gibbs had thought the same.

"Well, sometimes things aren't what they seem, DiNozzo." Kate glanced at Gibbs, a knowing look in her eyes. This didn't go unnoticed by the Special Agent, however.

"I know that look...you know something, something that you aren't telling me." DiNozzo gave the brunette an accusing look, and Gibbs knew he wouldn't let go of this anytime soon.

"I only know what you know," Kate replied with a casual shrug of the shoulder. DiNozzo looked like he didn't believe her.

"We're working on putting the pieces together, DiNozzo," Gibbs cut in before the Special Agent could say anything else. "I want you to check out Pemberton Medical Analysis, get its employment records. I want files, logs, reports, everything. Have McGee help you out as well." The tone in this voice brooked no argument.

"On it, boss." DiNozzo gave Kate one last look before heading down the hallway.

A short elevator trip later, Gibbs and Kate entered the Lab. Thankfully, Chip was nowhere to be found. "Any luck on the DNA search so far, Abs?" He asked, going over to a stationary pig-tailed form that was sitting in front of the monitor.

They had spent the better part of the night finishing processing the evidence bags (and recording them as well, just in case). That took some time, and so did searching the various databases (now including the Armed Forces, fertility clinics in the DC metropolitan area, blood donors, and so on). When they yielded no concrete results, Gibbs had let them go for the night.

The DNA search wasn't strictly required, given that they already knew Stewart had signed off on the body, but it would nevertheless prove that they had been doing some work – and hopefully mitigate the Director's wrath when she found out what they'd done. And not to mention, it would prove Stewart's claims and perhaps save him from a prison sentence as well.

Not that he cared for the man, of course.

Abby shook her head, her pigtails moving with the motion. "Nothing so far. I've tried everything else," she replied with a sigh as she rested her chin on her hands in front of her computer. "Chip's really good at this."

As much he was loath to, Gibbs had to agree with that, given that Chip had so nearly gotten away with it the last time. The Hell he was going to say that aloud, though. "Not as good as you are, though," Gibbs said, glancing at the mass-spectrometer. "What about the sticky stuff that Ducky found on the victim's ankle?"

Abby perked up. "Oh yes! I chemically and instrumentally examined it, and found that it's an adhesive that's commonly found in duct tape. I discovered an anomaly in the material, though. It's a carpet fiber and I determined its chemical composition through the mass spec and the FTIS. It's a DuPont fiber from a Mustang."

"Which DiNozzo drives," Kate said, glancing at Gibbs.

Abby nodded. "Yes. At first, I thought it was from his car, but I tested it some more to be sure. The stain resistance indicated that the fiber had a coating from a 2004 Mustang. Tony drives a 1966 one, and I got a fiber there."

"Any matches?" Gibbs hoped that wasn't the case. That hope was quickly dashed when the Lab Rat nodded.

"It was a match, all right." Abby had a downcast look on her face. "Tony must've redone his carpeting or something. Oh my God, I'm so stupid! I shouldn't have gotten Chip to move Tony's car last weekend. If this gets out, Tony could go to prison or something—and I'll be the one who put him there!" Her panic-stricken face brought back memories of consoling her in the darkened Lab at night.

Kate rubbed her back soothingly. "It's going to be okay, Abby. You didn't know."

"But _still_, I should've known better!" Abby cried out.

"Don't beat yourself up, Abs," Gibbs reassured, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze. Looking at the monitor, he noted that there were several windows indicating failed DNA matches. "We'll keep this on the down low. We focus on our work, and everything'll be fine in the end."

"I hope so..." Abby sighed, seemingly calming down a little.

"It will. We're a team, after all," Kate said. "Anyone picks a bone with DiNozzo, they deal with all of us." Gibbs couldn't agree more, giving the brunette a lopsided smile, which she returned.

The forensic scientist nodded slowly, a pensive expression on her face. "Yeah..." her eyes began narrowing and her lips began moving wordlessly. "Bone...bone..." She suddenly straightened, giving them rounded eyes. "Bone marrow! There's a national database for bone marrow donors!" Her fingers began moving across the keyboard, and the computer rapidly beeped when a new window popped up.

"Seems we found our Jane Doe," Gibbs commented, seeing the words 'Carla Johnson', along with her address, flash on the screen. Abby nodded, a relieved smile on her face.

Gibbs was about to turn around when a thought struck him. "I want you to do a search on Pemberton Medical Analysis." At Abby's furrowed brow, he continued: "Lab that Stewart sent his works to. Check for anyone who had worked there for the past couple of years." He knew he had gotten DiNozzo and McGee to do the same, but he figured out that a third person would get the job done faster.

"On it, Bossman!" Abby began dialing on her Polycom Voicestation speakerphone. He had to smile at that nickname.

As he walked out of the Lab, he noticed Kate looking at him with a knowing smirk. "What, Katie?"

"First DiNozzo and McGee, now Abby?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Gotta keep them busy."

"Mhm, so you say. You're a great delegator, aren't you?"

A rumble of laughter escaped his throat as they entered the elevator. "Would you like me to delegate you some work as well?"

Kate's smirk widened. "I can handle whatever you give me, _Bossman_." Gibbs involuntarily swallowed a little at her tone, and particularly the way she was looking at him. The dream flashed in his mind for an instant, and his mind began to swim a little as her scent filled the elevator.

"We'll see, Katie."

* * *

><p>"Boss, I got something!" McGee stood up from his desk as soon as Gibbs and Kate entered the bullpen. "It took a while, but—"<p>

"I can see that," Gibbs interrupted, going over to the plasma. McGee sat back down, ignoring the smirking DiNozzo, and an employment roster popped up on the screen a couple of seconds later. One of the names was highlighted before zooming out.

Charles Sterling.

The sight of that name was a great achievement in itself, Gibbs thought. Not only was DiNozzo not in a FBI holding cell, but they were now a step closer to apprehending the forensic assistant for once and for all. And hopefully without causing a physical confrontation this time. The destruction of much of the carpet fiber evidence during the scuffle with Abby the last time had considerably complicated the case against Chip, and he didn't need that headache this time around.

"Who's that?" DiNozzo squinted at the screen. Gibbs hid a smirk, knowing that the Special Agent either didn't know or care about Chip's real name.

"You'll find out." He turned to McGee. "Run a background search on him."

With a nod, McGee's fingers rapidly clicked all over the keyboard and an identification record appeared on the screen. DiNozzo's eyes widened in recognition. "Chipper? As in Abby's weird assistant?" The Special Agent got up from his desk and walked over to the plasma. Gibbs noticed that a few agents were looking at him, aware that over half of the agency, if not all, knew about the frame-up.

"Born and raised in West Virginia, father left the family, and mother raised him all by herself," McGee recited, ignoring DiNozzo. "Attended medical school at Georgetown University. Interned for a couple of years at Bethesda during that time, and worked in a few labs before landing a job at Pemberton Medical Analysis. He was laid off two years ago."

"Do you think he has something to do with all this?" Ziva asked, furrowing her brow as she glanced at DiNozzo.

"We won't know until we find out," Gibbs replied vaguely as he made his way to his desk.

"You know, Stewart mentioned that he sent the blood samples to a lab, which happened to be PMA," DiNozzo spoke up, still looking slightly bewildered. "Now that Chipper worked there before...something doesn't feel right." He turned to Kate. "Isn't that what you were holding back from me before?"

The brunette shook her head. "I only said that I knew what you knew." Gibbs had to smile at the 'innocent' look on her face.

DiNozzo narrowed his eyes slightly. "Why, then, do I not believe you, Kate?"

"You _never_ do!" she retorted.

"Anything on cases he worked on?" Gibbs piped in before things could escalate any further.

Sensing the impatience in the Boss' tone, McGee nodded and several reports appeared on the plasma. "He was responsible for conducting independent testing in a number of cases between 2000 and 2002. That's where it gets strange, though: quite a few cases were dropped or otherwise invalidated because of insufficient or negative evidence processed by Chip's lab."

"And that is not all," Ziva said in turn. "PMA was not the only one to conduct work of that kind: there were several other such labs, and they performed excellent work. Only PMA was...lacking in this field, as far as Chip was concerned."

"Yeah, basically, if you sent your evidence to Chip, your case was pretty much guaranteed to fail," McGee elaborated.

"Any reasons as of why?" Gibbs asked.

McGee cocked his head in thought. "It could be incompetence."

"Or deliberate negligence," Kate supplied.

"I'd put my money on incompetence," DiNozzo piped in, heading back to his desk. "What I don't understand is why he's doing that. I've never even met the guy before!"

"There are some people who simply hates you," Kate replied knowingly. DiNozzo shot her a glare.

"You ratted Stewart out for the tainted blood, didn't you?" Gibbs directed his gaze at the Special Agent.

"Well, yeah. He sabotaged my case, or so I thought, but I'm not exactly sure...wait a minute..." the Special Agent trailed off, and Gibbs could see the wheels turning in DiNozzo's head. "PMA contaminated the blood samples, not Stewart. That means...my accusation got him fired, which caused him to sue the state..."

"And when he won the lawsuit, in early 2003, the lab Chip was working in got shut down," McGee finished.

"In short, Chip was gunning for both you and Stewart. Planned it in a way that even if he failed to get either one of you, the other would get sprung up." Gibbs' gut coiled a little at the look that came across the Special Agent's face. "Hey, it's not your fault. You did what you had to do."

DiNozzo smiled weakly, looking over at Chip's head shot. "Well, y-yeah, but still—"

"No buts. You did what you had to do," Gibbs interjected firmly.

"So Chip is framing DiNozzo because...he lost a job?" Ziva said, her dark eyes hardening.

"Some people've done a lot worse for the same reason," Gibbs said.

"Gibbs!" He and the others looked up at direction of the voice. Jenny was standing on the mezzanine, looking right at him, and dread began coiling in his gut at the cold mask she had in place, nevermind the fact she had used his last name. He knew it would happen one way or another, but this soon? "My office, now!" She walked away.

Gibbs exchanged looks with the others, particularly Kate, as he got up from his desk. "Get me camera feeds from PMA for this week, anything to prove Chip was there several days ago," he ordered as he headed for the stairs. When he entered the office a moment later, she was looking out the window, her hands clasped behind her back.

"When were you going to tell me?" Her voice was calm. Deadly calm.

Deciding that playing dumb wouldn't be the most wise thing to do in this situation, Gibbs walked toward the desk. "I was doing my job, Jen." He inwardly winced at the way he sounded.

The Director turned to him, and had he been a lesser man, he would've crumbled under her Glare. "Yeah? Screwing me over? NCIS in general?"

"Jen—"

"Imagine my surprise when I found out about Agent DiNozzo's framing, especially for cutting off a woman's legs!" Jenny continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Which happened yesterday, might I add."

Gibbs took in the hard expression on the Director's face, his mind trying to figure out how she had found out. "Like I said, I was doing my job. DiNozzo was framed for something he didn't commit. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Tell me right away," Jenny replied, her eyes hardening. "I'm not sure if you're aware of it, but NCIS policy stipulates that the head of a MCRT team inform the Director right away if one or more of his or her agents get implicated in a crime. The case is to be suspended and turned over to an outside agency, alas, the FBI. Had you done so, it would've been handled promptly. But no, you had to go ahead and jeopardize this agency!"

Gibbs felt himself tense up. "I'm not about to jeopardize one of my agents, especially if the perpetrator's getting away with it!"

"I don't think you understand the severity of this situation, Gibbs," Jenny said with a weary sigh, her mask of anger slipping away a bit. "If word of this got out, not only about Agent DiNozzo's implication but what you've been doing over the past twenty-four hours, it would ruin the agency."

Gibbs watched her slowly pace around the office. "So we don't tell anyone."

The Director let out a bark of laughter, turning to Gibbs. "Oh, we don't tell anyone about this! Like that's gonna work. Over half of NCIS, if not all, already know about this – and it's only a matter of time before things leak out. If that happens...I'll have to explain to the SecNav as to why NCIS is orchestrating a cover-up!"

"I'm sure you'll come up with something," Gibbs quipped. He knew he shouldn't play with fire, but he couldn't help it, it sometimes. "You're good at politics, after all."

Jenny's glare returned in full force. "I'm also good at dragging _certain_ others down with me if things start going south."

Gibbs gave a light shrug, a smirk tugging at his lips. "That's only if you let it, Madam Director."

Jenny shook her head as she circled toward her desk. "Damn you," she muttered under her breath before her voice resumed its normal volume. "You're pretty good at cornering me, aren't you, Jethro?" She was back to using his preferred name, which hopefully was a good thing.

"You never complained." He was definitely playing with fire when her eyes flared up.

"Give me one reason why I wouldn't suspend you from the investigation for real," Jenny growled, sitting down at her desk and crossing her arms. "And it damn better be a good one." He hoped that he had to say next would convince her to let him continue the investigation, or at least go easy on him and his team.

"We think we might've found who had been framing DiNozzo all along."

Despite herself, Jenny quirked an eyebrow and raised her chin. "You _think_?" He nearly smiled at her use of his words.

"Charles Sterling." As soon the name passed through his lips, he realized who had probably tipped Jenny off.

The Director's eye widened a bit. "Ms. Sciuto's assistant?" She asked, uncrossing her arms.

"That one," Gibbs said dryly. "We bought Stewart in, and he said he contacted his blood work out to a lab, which actually contaminated it. Turns out Chip worked in that lab before it got shut down."

Jenny remained silent for a moment, and he half-expected her to demand for solid, verifiable evidence like she'd done when he'd said something about Ari Haswari (cue jaw, gut, and fists clenching with hatred).

"You've been doing some work," she finally said. "That's still circumstantial evidence, though I suppose that'll be collaborated by the Stewart court case, which's still pending by the way. You find something?"

"We did. The Jane Doe was found in Stewart's morgue. He claims he didn't do it, and I believe him," Gibbs replied.

Jenny nodded before letting out a sigh. "There's the matter of procedure. You went behind my back and put the integrity of this agency in great risk, so I have half a mind to actually suspend you from investigating any further and leaving it to the FBI."

She wasn't kidding. He hoped it wouldn't come down to that, though.

"Or at least, that's what my Director side would do. My agent side? I would let you continue on the investigation and nail the bastard who did this. And I'm not referring to you this time."

Gibbs chuckled, feeling himself relax a little – although his gut continued to tense up. Jenny always had his back for the most part, even if she disagreed with his actions most of the time. "You were a good agent, Jen."

Jenny's lips curled a little. "Let's see if I'm good enough a Director to do some damage control. You're not off the hook, though."

"Ever when am I?"

Jenny shook her head a little at that. "I'll 'suspend' you for appearance's sake, and let you do what you gotta do for a while before I contact the FBI." He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it. "And I'll see that Fornell runs the investigation."

Gibbs nodded. "Not what I wanted to ask." When she raised her eyebrows, he continued: "But appreciate it, Jen."

"You better. I'm putting my neck out for you, and I'll be damned if I lose it. And what was it?"

"Don't bring Sacks into this."

FBI Special Agent Ron Sacks was a...difficult person to work with, to put it lightly, and he knew what he was talking about. Sacks held DiNozzo in contempt, and the last thing DiNozzo needed was someone who would undoubtedly paint a negative picture of him. It didn't particularly help that Sacks continued to insist on DiNozzo's guilt long after his name was cleared.

Jenny's eyes were full of questions as they searched his, and he hoped she wouldn't vocalize them. "I'll see what I can do," she said finally. Nodding, Gibbs made for the door.

"Remember, Jethro," she called out. "I go down, I'm taking you with me."

Gibbs gave her a half-smirk. "I know." He left the room, the door closing behind him.

* * *

><p>Over the next several hours, and with some difficulty, they were able to procure the security tape feeds from the Hampton Medical Center, Stewart's workplace. The front desk receptionist answered in the negative when questioned about a man fitting Chip's description, leading Gibbs to deduce that he probably went there at night.<p>

"We could use the feeds to check if someone snuck there after closing time," McGee was saying as his fingers rapidly danced all over the keyboard. "The Medical Center upgraded their security system a couple of weeks ago, so we could use the cameras in the lobby, elevators, stairwells, hallways, and the garage to—"

"Yeah, yeah, get on with it, McSpy," DiNozzo interrupted with a grimace. McGee rolled his eyes. Several video-feed screens were displayed on the plasma, depicting the aforementioned locations in the building. The date and time blinked on the bottom of the screens.

Gibbs remained silent as he watched the video feeds that McGee had fast-forwarded slightly. Several personnel went about their business, but Chip was nowhere in sight. As the feeds continued, the Center steadily emptied out and its hallways doused in dim lights. It would be pretty difficult to get a lock on anyone there at that time, especially if they kept their faces away from the cameras.

"Somebody's pulling into the garage," Kate pointed out, and Gibbs saw what appeared to be a dark Chevy SUV cruise into the largely-deserted garage's vast parking lot.

"See if you can't zoom on in." Gibbs watched someone get out of the car. The person was wearing a maintenance suit, cap, and dark glasses that obscured much of the face, and was carrying what looked like a black bag.

Given the different angles of the cameras in the garage, one would be forgiven for thinking that they would get a good look at the person's face. No matter how much McGee zoomed in, the person seemed to keep his face away from the camera as he strode across the garage into the building.

"That's definitely him," Abby said, staring intently at the plasma. "I'd recognize that gait anywhere." Gibbs smirked at this, remembering her incredulity when she'd ran into the bullpen, exclaiming her discovery only to find that the others already knew.

"He seems to know what he is doing," Ziva said, glancing at the others.

"Yeah. Get his license," Gibbs instructed, and McGee zoomed on in the Chevy's license plate. It was slightly blurry, even after McGee ran a magnification program, but most of the numbers were visible. As the probationary agent ran a search on the plate on a separate program, Gibbs watched the figure walk through the various hallways on the other screens. When one of the screens switched to a room, he recognized it: Stewart's autopsy room.

"Pity there's no camera in the freezer," DiNozzo remarked as the person entered the morgue, the back of the head to the camera.

Kate quirked an eyebrow. "Would anyone want to watch corpses dangling from the ceiling all day long?"

DiNozzo grimaced slightly. "Good point."

"The car appears to be a rental," McGee said, looking up from his monitor.

"Find out who rented it." Gibbs continued to look at the video-feeds, hoping that Chip would somehow slip up. Turn his head a bit or something. That would go a long way in conclusively placing Chip at the scene of the crime, and thus put the last nail in his coffin.

His hopes were answered a moment later. Chip must've removed his glasses while he was in the freezer; part of his face was visible to the camera as he left the freezer, putting the glasses back on. Gibbs didn't need to order McGee to do his thing; the agent had already magnified the face and was already running a facial recognition search. After a couple of moments, the computer beeped and Chip's head shot appeared.

Gibbs felt satisfaction settle down in his gut, more so when Abby gave him a wide grin. "You were right the whole time, Gibbs!"

"He's always right," Kate smirked, a twinkle in her eyes. DiNozzo and Ziva nodded in agreement.

"Bring him in," Gibbs told the Lab Rat, who saluted with her left hand. "On it, Gibbs!"

"Wrong hand." Abby's grin widened a bit as she saluted again with the correct hand.

"Found the rental agreement," McGee spoke up, and said form appeared on the plasma. "He used a fake name and address."

"Good." That was another strike they had against Chip, one that they could use to batter him down. McGee gave him raised eyebrows as he printed out the agreement form, several screenshots of the incriminating videos, and other relevant evidence and put them into a folder. Gibbs took the folder and skimmed through it as he went to the elevator. There was only one thing left now, and he hoped to end it before the FBI got involved.

"Thank God this is almost over," DiNozzo sighed as he entered the elevator with the others.

"Yeah, you won't have to go to prison, after all," Kate said.

DiNozzo nodded. "Prison changes people, or so I've heard." Gibbs tried not to think about what would've happened had the Special Agent been thrown into prison, especially the way cops were treated there. He'd heard some stories that could curdle the blood of even the most hardened persons, and the hell he was going to let DiNozzo suffer that fate.

"It does," Gibbs said, watching Abby bounce slightly on her feet. A thought came to him. "Ziva, you go with her." The Israeli raised her eyebrows slightly but nodded. Gibbs gave Abby the ghost of a smile as he stepped onto the second floor, where Interrogation was located. Chip would think twice about trying something.

"Speaking from experience?" Kate grinned.

"No...but I've come pretty close to it at times." He tried not to think about how close their hands were to brushing each other as they walked through the hallway.

"Why am I not surprised?"

Gibbs' only reply was to smirk at her as they entered Observation.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So ends this story. Er, I mean chapter. I'll let you imagine what happened to Chip in the end, more fun that way.


	26. Past Modeling

**A/N:** I swear my muse's strange. I struggle with writer's block for a week, only to write this down in over two days. I mean, over 5,700 words? That's gotta be the longest chapter in this story so far. I guess writing the last chapter helped 'unblock' myself or something, and so did your reviews (which are much appreciated). I hope the muse lasts for a while, though. I need it. Oh, and there's some Kibbs fluff in this chapter as well.

You know how I feel about reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. I also don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Model Behavior" (3.11), even although most of them have been altered to fit this story. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Six:<strong>  
>Past Modeling<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p><em>December 14, 2005<em>  
><em>7:42 AM<em>  
><em>NCIS Headquarters<em>  
><em>Washington, D.C.<em>

"Please?"

It should be a crime, Gibbs thought to himself as he stared at Kate, who continued to look at him pleadingly.

Knowing that today was Awards Day, Gibbs thought about calling in late. However, he'd received a case package on his front porch and knew he had no choice but go to work. He'd decided to delay the inevitable as much as possible by doing the unthinkable: following the speed limit and obeying traffic rules.

It'd taken much (read: all and then some) of his patience and severely grated his nerves, and the coffee made the torture slightly bearable. The excruciatingly slow drive to the Headquarters took about thirty minutes, instead of the usual ten, and he'd figured out that the award ceremony was nearly over, if not already. He was in the clear.

Or so as he thought before he was ambushed by Kate while hurrying over to the elevators. In hindsight, he should've taken the damn stairs, which was right next to the front double doors.

"Awards ain't my thing, Katie," he said for the third or so time, inching toward the elevator. Kate took a step in front of him, blocking his way once again.

"It's not my thing too. Heck, it's probably not everyone's thing, but it'd be nice to be honored for your work." Kate said, her eyes locking with his once again as she placed her hands on her waist. Feeling his resolve begin to falter by these hazel eyes, Gibbs looked around the nearly-deserted atrium.

"Taking down criminals and terrorists's enough for me," he replied. Kate let out a snort.

"_Still_. It's nice to receive a medal of honor. You've skipped the awards five times in the past ten years, so why not go today?" Gibbs raised his eyebrows slightly. How did she know that? He was going to have a nice, long talk with DiNozzo later.

"Can't I go to the next one?" Gibbs glanced at the elevator. It was so close, yet so far away. Kate shook her head.

"Then you'd skip it too, and we'd go back to square one," Kate retorted, fixing him a mild glare. "Why not go and get it out of the way? Just this _one_ time."

He let out a sigh. "Katie—"

"Please? For me?"

His resolve was crumbling further. He tried to look away once again, but his damn mind chose that particular moment to disobey him. He swore he could hear evil laughter in the back of his mind. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he was about to open his mouth when something cut him short. His eyes widened, and his gut clenched. Oh no...not that. Anything but that.

Kate had stuck her bottom lip out a bit, her eyes rounding slightly. "Please, Jethro?"

As much as he wanted to resist it further, he knew he had lost the battle right there and then, and a groan rumbled in the back of his throat. "You owe me _big_ time, Katie."

Her Look faded away, replaced by a wide grin that showed her dimples. "I know."

How was that possible? He wondered to himself as Kate took his hand and led him to the Presentation Room. Too many a woman had given him that Look in the past and future, including his wives, yet he'd easily stood his ground. What was it about Kate that made her the exception to the rule?

At that moment, Rule 52 was created: "If a woman gives you the Look, run the hell away." He wouldn't elaborate any further; every self-respecting man knew what the Look meant.

As they headed toward their destination, Gibbs tried to keep his eyes from wandering down Kate's shapely figure. That was much easier said than done, though, and he couldn't help but swallow as he took her in, particularly her backside. Although she was wearing her usual suit, it really fit her well, and he was probably fooling himself, but she looked a bit more...groomed? Her hair was combed neatly, her suit appeared to be ironed, and her vanilla scent was a bit stronger. He wondered if it was for the awards ceremony or for him. He immediately quashed the last part, turning his eyes away.

The Presentation Room was pretty crowded. Some agents were sitting in desks, and many were standing, clapping with varying enthusiasm. Jenny was standing in the front, a slightly-forced smile on her face as she gave an award to an agent. He saw DiNozzo, Ziva, Ducky, and Palmer a short distance away. Abby and McGee were probably somewhere in the room.

He slouched slightly, hoping the crowd would conceal him. It was futile: Jenny somehow honed on to him and she nearly did a double-take, her eyes widening. He gave her a faint smile, and Jenny composed herself, a smug smirk coming across her face.

"The next award to be presented is the Meritorious Civilian Service Award," Jenny's personal secretary Cynthia Sumner announced from the podium, causing his gut to clench in dread.

"Would Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs _please_ step forward?" Jenny carefully pronounced his name, pretending to scan the crowd as she took the presentation box containing the medal from the secretary.

That woman was evil, Gibbs thought glumly. He felt a slight pressure on his hand, and turned to see Kate looking at him. She cocked her head toward the front and gave him a reassuring squeeze once again. His hand tingling slightly, he reluctantly pushed his way through the crowd, ignoring the surprised looks on his team's faces.

Jenny's smile was genuine as she opened the presentation box, displaying the blue-and-gold medal in its glory. "Congratulations, Special Agent Gibbs!" Not trusting himself to speak, not with so many eyes on him, Gibbs merely nodded and took the award.

He was about to walk away when she grabbed his forearm. "Smile for the camera," she whispered as she posed next to him. He tried to pull away, but her unusually strong grip kept him in place. Clenching his jaw, he resigned himself to his fate, blinking away the flash spots in his eyes afterwards.

"You are evil. You know that, Agent Todd?" He whispered as soon he returned to Kate's side.

"I know," she whispered back, a proud grin on her face. At that point, he realized that it was the first time she went to the ceremony. The last one had taken place in December 2002, and the next one took place at around this time, nearly seven months after her death. A warm feeling welled in his chest as he gazed at the brunette, feeling glad that he went there—and that she was there to see it.

"In all the years I have known Jethro, this is certainly the first time he has ever turned up at an awards ceremony." Ducky's voice interrupted his thoughts and he turned his head to see him and Ziva heading his way, DiNozzo behind them.

"First time for everything, I guess," Gibbs said with a shrug.

Ducky, Ziva, and DiNozzo gave him matching smiles. "Indeed," the doctor said, patting him on the shoulder. "I suppose we will have another first on this fine day: congratulations on receiving the award. It is not too often that one gets honored with so prestigious an award."

With a wide smile, Ziva pulled him into a hug. "Congrats, Gibbs," she whispered in his ear, and he gave her a half-smile after she pulled away.

"Gibbs!" He looked over to see Abby weaving through the crowd, following by a smiling McGee. "You came, you actually came!" The forensic scientist exclaimed as she enveloped him in one of her infamous Hugs.

"So I did," he grunted as he patted her back.

Abby pulled back, still holding him at arm-length. "I'm _so_ proud of you, even although you cost me twenty bucks! You've never been to the awards, so I thought I'd bet on you, counting on you not appearing as usual. And guess what? You show up!" Her pout then turned into a wide grin. "But who cares? You're here!" She pulled him back into the Hug once again.

"Ah, you know what they say: expect the unexpected."

"Rule 14," DiNozzo piped in before turning to Gibbs. "Congrats, boss. That's like, what, the sixth award? That's quite a record." The Special Agent then let out a soft sigh as he glanced at the award in Gibbs' hand. "It'd be nice to get one for myself, just this once…" he mumbled under his breath, referring to a bunch of awards that he kept locked in one of his desk drawers.

Gibbs heard him. "You can have it." He was about to give the award to DiNozzo, but Kate grabbed it. "I'll hold on to it," she said, holding the award protectively to her chest.

DiNozzo threw his hands up. "No fair! I had a speech prepared and all that!"

"Michael Douglas to Karl Malden? Who is that?" Ziva wondered aloud, reading a creased letter in her hands.

DiNozzo's eyes widened as he patted his slacks and snatched the paper away. "I see you can't keep your hands to yourself, Zee-vah," he sneered, ignoring Kate's sniggering. "McProbie must've rubbed off on you." McGee rolled his eyes.

"DiPot, meet DiKettle," Kate intoned, eliciting a chuckle from Gibbs.

"You never cease to surprise me, Jethro," Jenny said, walking up to them. The ceremony was over, and agents were clearing out of the room. "I half-expected you to skip this ceremony."

"I was gonna, but _something_ came up." Gibbs gave Kate a light glare. For the first time, he noticed that Jenny's hair was cut short. It looked good on her, though he didn't say anything about it.

"Well, I guess things do change," the Director smirked, subconsciously twirling her hair. Gibbs glanced at Kate again; she was smiling innocently. "In fact, I expect you to be there the next time I'm handling you the award. It's the least you could do, considering what happened a couple of weeks ago." From what he had heard, SecNav Gordon Winters didn't take too light to the 'delay', all but accusing her and NCIS in general of a cover-up operation. The threat of an Inspector-General inspection, however, didn't materialize.

"Not if somebody ends up dead," Gibbs replied as he made to leave the room. Jenny quirked her eyebrows as she followed him, along with the others.

"Who?"

"Taylor Shane."

Jenny's eyebrows rose further. "The supermodel?"

"Yeah, her. It was the case I was working on before I was rudely interrupted." If Kate could stick her tongue out at him at this time without looking childish, she would definitely do it. "She was found hanging from an OCS security fence at Quantico this morning. Thought you'd like to hear about it before it hit the news."

"The press's gonna be all over this one," Jenny warned. Gibbs heard her unspoken words: _go easy on them. _

As if. "Yeah, I've got it covered. I'll keep you informed." He headed for the double doors.

"Pity you couldn't get a good head start," Kate teased.

Gibbs cocked his head, looking right into Kate's eyes. "Well, I'll get right on _top_ of things," he leaned closer to her, emphasizing some of the words. He held back a smirk when the brunette reddened a bit.

"You are evil. You know that, Special Agent Gibbs?" she groused, and Gibbs smirked this time.

"I know."

* * *

><p>He could do it, he thought as he walked toward the front gates that led into the Quantico base. He could. He'd faced off against a rogue Mossad double-agent, a serial killer with a tongue fetish, a Lebanese terrorist, the grown-up children of a deceased drug dealer, a deranged Lieutenant, a CEO with a deadly vendetta against the Navy, a terrorist group leader, and a Russian mercenary, among dozens of criminals and terrorists who targeted him and his team in some way. He could do this, he <em>had<em> to—no matter how much he didn't want to.

A glance at Kate at his side gave him renewed strength. Setting his jaw, Gibbs nodded to himself as he continued to put one foot in front of the other, feeling his entire body tensing up. His grip on his coffee cup tightened in tandem with his gut as he walked toward the great enemy that would test all of his skills and resolve.

The crowd of reporters.

With a near-deafening roar, the crowd swarmed him, nearly battering him with their microphones and camera recorders, and assailing him with questions that caused his eardrums to ring. "What is the official word on Taylor Shane's cause of death?" "What condition was her body in?" "Have you found the killer?" "Who do you think did it?" "Why was she hung upside-down?" "Is the Marine Corps trying to cover up the cause of her death?" "What about the other girls?" "How are they handling it?" "Are they in danger?" And so on and on. Whatever word he managed to get out midst this torture was quickly drowned out.

Then the enemy did the unthinkable, one that none of his other enemies had ever _dared_ to do: a redheaded female reporter accidentally knocked his cup of coffee out of his hands with her microphone. He watched in silent horror and anguish as his beloved coffee splashed all over the ground.

"Interview's over," he said through gritted teeth, ignoring the reporter's frantic apologies as he ducked under the yellow police tape that held the crowd at bay. Ignoring the yells of the reporters, Gibbs curtly ordered the two Marines standing guard to secure the area.

"You gotta love the media," Kate muttered with an eye roll, falling into step next to him. Gibbs half-smirked at her, feeling some of his pain fade away.

"It's a wonder that our nation's still functioning," he replied. Kate let out a laugh.

In the distance, Ducky and Palmer were crouched over the body. Several Marines were standing guard nearby. Passing through the ajar barbed-wire gate, Gibbs circled around the body, taking in her features. Taylor Shane's eyes were wide open and her mouth slightly gape, her face frozen in a death mask.

"Wow, she really was beautiful," he heard Palmer say, sounding slightly awed.

Ducky glanced at his assistant. "She still is, Mr. Palmer."

"How long, Duck?" Gibbs asked, eyeing the dried gashes on Taylor's bloodstained military-style tank-top.

"Well, given that rigor mortis usually begins in the face, particularly the eyelids, jaw, and neck, between two to six hours after death, I estimate at least five hours," Ducky pointed around the face. "The muscles in the rest of her body, along with the major organs, have not yet begun the process. I daresay she died sometimes after three in the morning."

"How did she get that way?" Kate asked.

"Well, judging by these lacerations covering her thorax—" Ducky pointed toward the wounds. "—one could suppose that she impaled herself on these barbs. However, none of the wounds themselves were fatal, but we will know more when we get her back." He nodded at Palmer, who stood up and went over to the NCIS Emergency Response Van parked nearby.

Gibbs got onto a knee as he surveyed the body. "Who moved the body?"

"I did, sir." One of the Marines stepped forward, and Gibbs stood up to face him. He was a tall, slim man in his mid- to late twenties. His last name was printed on the front of his uniform. "Didn't think it was right, leaving Taylor out there like that. Don't want them to take pictures." As with the last time, Gibbs felt an affinity toward the man the way Marines felt toward other Marines, current or former.

"Yeah. Wouldn't help us out, though." He didn't blame him, though. He'd do the same thing if he was in the man's position.

Staff Sergeant Michael McMannis had the decency to look slightly chastised. "I'm aware of that sir, but I don't want the public to think these pictures were the reason the Corps agreed to support this show in the first place. It would make us look bad, you know."

The corners of Gibbs' lips curled a little. "At ease, Marine. Never said you didn't do the right thing. Do the producers know about this?"

"No, sir. We've been trying to contact Mr. Thomas Crawley. He doesn't know anything about this yet." The name Crawley brought back memories. A crooked TV producer, Crawley had something of a strange obsession toward his step-daughter, Taylor, and when he'd found out about her intentions to leave the show and marry her boyfriend, he reacted the way one would expect him to do.

Gibbs glanced at the section of the fence where Taylor's body had been found earlier. Some of the barbed wire was torn away, dangling in the air, and a piece of cloth was caught in it. Blood coated part of the wire, cloth, and the top of the gate as well. "How'd she get up there?"

"Looked like she was trying to climb it. But that doesn't make any sense, sir. If she wanted to leave the show, all she had to do was ask. This isn't a real boot camp, after all." Something passed on McMannis's face for an instant, but Gibbs didn't miss it.

He recognized that look. It was one he'd himself worn several times in the past-future.

Gibbs glanced at the others, who had arrived and were looking at the body, and went over to them. "McGee, photos," he addressed the probationary agent before turning to the two females. "Kate and Ziva, interview the models. And DiNozzo—"

"Boss, I'm pretty familiar with the show. Perhaps I should interview them." Gibbs had to smirk at the expression on the Special Agent's face. A glance at Kate indicated that she had a matching smirk on her face as well. Ziva was shaking her head slightly.

"Ziva, help McGee with the photos," Gibbs amended, knowing the Israeli's dislike of models. He turned to Kate. "Keep an eye on him, make sure he does his job." He gave her a meaningful look, and she nodded in understanding.

"My pleasure," the brunette said with a small smile on her face. DiNozzo, who had initially looked like he had been given the key to the Playboy Mansion, looked at Kate warily. Shaking his head at the Special Agent, Gibbs went over to McMannis. "I'm gonna need all the footage you have on this."

The Marine nodded. "You got it, sir. Post-production office is right over there." He gestured toward a one-story house nearby. The words, POST-PRODUCTION, was displayed on it, along with a TV poster. Entering the house, they made their way to the security room, where a young Marine immediately stood up from his desk and saluted.

McMannis returned the salute, and the other man sat down, removing his headpiece. Gibbs could see the name, Harvey, sewn on the man's front. "We need the footage that was shot last night, Corporal. One of the front gate."

"Between ten and five o'clock," Gibbs clarified.

Corporal Harvey nodded and went to work. A video-feed appeared on one of the monitors, showing the barbed-wire gate, starting at ten o'clock. Nothing of significance happened on the screen, so Harvey fast-forwarded it. Save for a couple of Marines walking past the gate at ten-forty, the gate grounds was pretty much deserted. Midnight passed, followed by one, then two. Finally, at around the 3:06 AM mark, someone ran toward the gate.

"Stop there," McMannis instructed. Harvey paused the feed, rewinded it a bit, and played it normally. A woman, Taylor, ran toward the gate from the right and began climbing it. From what he could see on the slightly-grainy screen, her body movements were sluggish, yet agitated, a sign that she was overdosed on PCP.

Glancing at McMannis, Gibbs noted that although the man's face was stoic, his eyes radiated pain and he felt sympathy toward the Marine. On the screen, Taylor continued to climb the gate, although she slipped a couple of times, and managed to reach the top. Gibbs couldn't help but wince as she grabbed the razor wire with her bare hands and tried to go over the top of the gate. However, at the last moment, her body seemed to convulse and she went limp, her legs and right arm getting caught in the wire and preventing her from hitting the ground. The time was 3:15 AM.

"Nobody saw her until the morning?" McMannis turned to a stunned Harvey.

"As far as I know, no," the Corporal replied.

"We'd like all your footage of the entire camp from last night. Send them over to NCIS," Gibbs instructed.

Harvey nodded. "Will do, sir."

As McMannis drilled Harvey about the night security detail, Gibbs left the house and went over to McGee and Ziva, who were finishing taking the photos.

"Um, I'm just about finished, boss," McGee said, holding the camera up.

"Good job," Gibbs smiled at the two agents. They had to stop looking surprised every time he praised them, but he supposed he couldn't fault them for that, given the way he had treated them the first time around. "I want you to go back to headquarters, make sure these reporters don't follow you back."

"Um, who'll be driving?" McGee asked, glancing at the van, where Palmer was loading a gurney containing the body into the back.

Gibbs was about to open his mouth when he thought about it. From his experience, especially earlier today, reporters were a particularly persistent bunch. They were basically vultures, keeping on hounding their victims until they got what they wanted. Ducky was a very careful driver, and so was McGee. They couldn't lose the reporters if their lives depended on it. Palmer was the opposite; he would easily get the team lost, and he didn't need that.

This left one person.

With a silent apology to the others, Gibbs turned to Ziva. "You drive." Ziva beamed, while McGee looked outright terrified. Palmer looked confused, having returned from the van.

"What am I missing here?"

* * *

><p>"No bones broken, no major arteries severed." Ducky peered at several X-ray films that were displayed on the film illuminator viewer. They depicted the skull, hands, wrists, legs, feet, and chest area. "Which, thankfully, goes for Mr. Palmer, McGee, and I as well."<p>

A still-shaken Palmer mumbled as if in agreement. Gibbs smirked.

"Take a look at the tox screen," Ducky picked up a clipboard containing the toxicology results from a side table and passed it on to Gibbs.

Much of the report was incomprehensible, but he recognized a couple of words there. "Her death was not caused by the barbed wire," the medical examiner continued. "If anything else, she appears to have overdosed on—"

"PCP. Also known as angel dust," Gibbs cut in, giving the clipboard back. Ducky nodded.

"Correct. Thanks to that overdose of PCP, that poor girl had a seizure, fell into a coma, and died, probably while on that fence. Quite a terrible way to go, might I say." Ducky went over to the slab where Taylor's body was lying.

"Accidental overdose, Duck?" Gibbs followed after Ducky, knowing what he was going to say next.

"I doubt it." Ducky shook his head as he peered into the victim's face. "She had enough amounts of PCP in her system to kill a small water buffalo. A small horse, if you like," he glanced at Gibbs. "I tire of saying it."

"Don't we all?"

Ducky gave a small chuckle. "Well, it appears that our young model might have committed suicide."

Nodding slowly, Gibbs mulled over how much to reveal to Ducky without making his future knowledge obvious. "'Might' being the key word," he finally said. Ducky lifted his face, his eyebrows raised. "You know something, Jethro?"

Gibbs almost chuckled at how Ducky's question might be interpreted. "How do you take PCP?"

Ducky's brow knitted. "Well, as with many recreational drugs, there are several ways to consume PCP. It may be ingested orally, smoked, insufflated, or injected." He glanced down at the victim. "There were no markings on her skin that indicates IV usage, so Taylor could not have injected the drug. There were no traces of PCP in her lungs and nasal cavity, so inhalation and smoking is out of the question. There were traces of PCP in her stomach, though, but I could find nothing that indicates the drug was in pill form." The doctor's frown deepened. "This is very interesting."

"A lot of things are. Are there any other way to take PCP?"

Ducky remained silent for a moment. "I suppose so. People can be pretty creative nowadays." He circled around the slab. "PCP can be easily transported, especially in liquid form, so one can spray it into food and consume it. That might explain the traces in the stomach. And of course, you can soak a cigarette in PCP and smoke it, but once again, there were no traces of the drug in the lungs."

"What about dipping?"

"Dipping?" Ducky looked confused for a moment.

"Um, that stuff that you, uh, put in your mouth..." Palmer spoke up hesitatingly, glancing at his superiors from his position by the slab.

Ducky's face lit up in realization. "Oh yes, dipping tobacco, also known as moist snuff. Given the proclivity of some people to put toxic substances in their mouths, that is a very strong possibility – especially in the modeling business." The medical examiner then shook his head. "I cannot believe I did not think of that."

"Happens to us sometimes," Gibbs remarked with a half-smile.

"I guess it may not have been a suicide, after all," Ducky remarked before leaning toward Taylor. "I guess boot camp was not so bad that it caused you to do it, my dear." Raising his head, Ducky continued: "I sent her clothes to Abigail. Hopefully, she might find something that proves that it was the snuff that done her in."

"That makes the two of us, Duck." Gibbs left the Autopsy room. As he waited for the elevator, he could hear Palmer's faint voice asking Ducky if NCIS investigated suicides. He blinked in surprise when the elevator opened to reveal Kate, who blinked at him in return.

"We gotta stop meeting like this, Katie." He stepped into the elevator.

"Funny, I could say the same for you, Jethro," she retorted.

Gibbs felt a half-smile come across his face at the way she'd used his name. "Weren't you heading to Autopsy?"

The brunette shook her head. "Well, I was going to check up on yo—them, but it seems that everything's all taken care of." He didn't miss her near-slip, and merely nodded at her.

"Sure, Katie." The elevator stopped at the next floor, and they headed to the Lab.

"Gibbs! You're on the news!" Abby whirled around, grabbed him, and dragged him over there. Sure enough, he saw himself on the overhead monitor, pushing through the crowd of reporters on the Zulu News Network (ZNN) channel. Gibbs let out a soft groan and looked at the Lab Rat. He never liked seeing himself, especially on TV. And besides, that reporter did a hatchet job on him. "Abs—"

"You're famous, G-Man! This is, like, the greatest day in my life! Oh, where's my pen and notepad? I'm sure I have it on me—nope, I left it somewhere! Why did I do that? I need to get organize—"

"Abs!" Gibbs interjected, grabbing her shoulders gently but firmly. "Ducky said you got something belonging to the victim."

Abby nodded, grabbing the remote and turning the monitor off. "I do, but I'm working on something else." She went over to the evidence table, and for the first time, he saw that it was full of boxes of assorted snack cakes, along with lab testing equipment. He recognized some of them (Twinkie and Hostess Cupcake), but the rest were unfamiliar.

"Didn't know you were a junk food junkie, Abs." The forensic scientist gave him a look.

"Well, you didn't get me a Caf-Pow!, so I have to manage," she half-joked. "But no. According to Ducky, there were no signs of intravenous drug use on the body, no traces of PCP in the lungs, and no traces of binders and chemicals commonly found in pills. Don't you find it a little strange?"

"Mhm," Gibbs nodded. Abby's eyes narrowed a little. "You know something, don't you?"

"Tell me what you know, I'll tell you mine."

Abby pointed at him. "You got it. PCP was found in her stomach, along with dextrose, ferrous sulfate, riboflavin—"

"Which means?" Kate furrowed her eyebrows.

"Chemicals found in these delectable pastries," Abby replied, gesturing over the snacks.

"Which one?" Gibbs asked.

"That's what I'm trying to find out. That's all I know so far, though. Well, that, and the fact I like cream filling."

"Me too," Kate said with a dimpled grin, looking right at Gibbs. He swallowed, feeling something stir inside him.

Abby looked between them with a knowing smirk, and this made him shift on his feet. "Well, now that I've told you what I know, it's your turn now!"

Gibbs took a breath. "Ducky found that Taylor consumed PCP in a different way."

"Such as?" Abby prompted. She and Kate were peering at him curiously.

"Snuff," Gibbs replied simply. Abby's eyes grew wide, and she looked like she wanted to headslap herself.

"So, that's why she had so much PCP in her body, but next to nothing about how she took it. It's so obvious...and here I was, thinking she OD'ed by Klowny Kake!" She picked up one of the yellow cakes and held it up. "Ducky should've told me that, though."

"It took him a while to figure that out," Gibbs stretched the truth a bit.

Abby nodded, chewing on the cake. "I'll get started on the clothes—after I finish the snack cakes, of course. You want some?"

Kate shook her head. "No, I'll pass." Gibbs turned to her with raised eyebrows. This was too good to pass up.

"Thought you liked cream filling, Katie," he quipped. Kate tried to contain her blush as she glared at him. "You're lucky it was Awards Day."

"I know." He gave her a smirk before nodding to Abby and leaving the Lab.

The Lab Rat continued to look at the door long after they left, her grin widening. "These two are _so_ adorable. I wonder if I should do something about it?" She took another bite out of the Kake.

* * *

><p>"You think Gibbs watched the news?" He heard DiNozzo ask as he headed for the bullpen.<p>

"I am not sure, but I know the Director did," Ziva replied, leaning against McGee's desk. "He is probably in her office right now."

"You know, I think they were more than just partners back in the day," DiNozzo said thoughtfully.

Gibbs shook his head. It wasn't the first time DiNozzo had speculated on his relationship with Jenny, but at least he wasn't doing that to him and Kate this time. Stepping over to the Special Agent from behind, Gibbs smirked at the looks on Ziva and McGee's faces as they stared at the oblivious DiNozzo. Truth be told, he rather liked sneaking up on the Special Agent. It could get entertaining at times.

DiNozzo stiffened, having finally sensed his presence. "Hi boss, we were talking about _Cagney & Lacey_," he explained, not turning around.

_Whap! _

"Sure you were." Gibbs walked to his desk and took a seat, looking at his agents. "What've we got on her so far?"

"Taylor Shane checked into the Los Angeles Health Center in August 2002 and then again in May 2003," Ziva replied, walking over to the front of Gibbs' desk. "She had an eating disorder, according to her publicist."

DiNozzo stepped over to Ziva's side. "It was actually the combination of heroin, cocaine and—"

"PCP," Kate cut in, stepping next to Gibbs.

DiNozzo blinked at her. "That's right. How'd you know?"

"She knows what she knows." Gibbs glanced at the brunette. "Anything else?"

"Some of her friends gave interviews in the past few years," McGee said, standing up from his desk and walking over. "They blame her drug problems mostly on the boyfriend, Noah Keller." With a click from the remote, Keller's mugshot appeared on the plasma, and Gibbs got up from his desk to have a closer look.

It was Ziva's turn to speak. "He is the son of Marshall Keller—"

"—who owns half of Manhattan," DiNozzo cut in, ignoring the look the Israeli gave him. "His kids are loaded too."

"He was arrested for possession of illegal narcotics three times in the past five years," McGee said. "Twice for cocaine, once for PCP."

"I assume he got off lightly," Kate commented.

"I would be surprised if he didn't," Gibbs replied before turning to DiNozzo and McGee. "Find him." Although Keller was long dead by then, the evidence found near his body would go a long way in identifying Crawley as the perpetrator. Not for the first time, he wished he could arrest the guy right from the start, basically nip the bud. It would make things simpler.

"On it, boss," the two agents chorused at the same time before giving each other looks. Gibbs turned to Ziva, who was looking at him with a slightly tilted head. "Did that Crawley guy get back, Ziver?"

The Israeli nodded. "Yes, last night. I will go interview him." Gibbs had to smirk at the way she anticipated what he was going to say next.

"We'll go with you," Gibbs said with a glance at Kate before heading toward the elevator. The brunette smiled as she grabbed her gear and followed after him.

As the elevator began its descent, Gibbs felt a warm hand envelop his, and turned to see Kate looking at him. She smiled as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. With a lopsided smile, he returned it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** It's fun making up rules, lol.


	27. Catching the Past

**A/N:** My chapters get longer and longer with every chapter. Anyways, here's the update, read and enjoy. The next chapter might focus on Christmas…and something else as a surprise, lol.

Reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. I also don't take credit for actual dialogue used in the episode, "Model Behavior" (3.11), even although most of them have been altered to fit this story. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Seven:<strong>  
>Catching the Past<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>She's beautiful.<p>

That thought ran through his mind as he glanced at Kate from the corner of his eye. She was sitting in the front passenger seat, looking out the windshield, her hands crossed on her lap.

Had his 2005 self thought that way, he would've recited Rule 12 again and again until the strange feelings went away. Now, he allowed these thoughts, having had the past-next ten years without her and the past seven months with her to come to terms with these 'strange feelings'.

He swallowed as he felt a strong urge to reach over and do _something_ that he might regret. Turning his attention to the road, he barely managed to avoid rear-ending a red car. It was sheer good luck that patrol car on the other side of the interaction didn't go after him.

Mentally head-slapping himself, he wished he had stopped for coffee the chance he got. He needed one badly.

After making another sharp turn, he thought about how proud she'd looked at the awards ceremony. Sure, the others were proud of him as well, but not as much as she was. The bright twinkle in her eyes, her dimpled smile, and the rapt attention on him. Not for the first time, he was glad that she was alive and well this time around. There were times where he was afraid that he'd wake up and find that this was all a dream, and that she was still dead and buried. He didn't know what he would do if that happened.

Pushing the depressing thoughts to the back of his mind, he snuck a glance at the brunette, only to have his breath catch in his throat when he saw hazel eyes peering back at him. She gave him a warm smile, and despite himself, he returned it as he shifted his attention to the front of the new Dodge Charger.

He glanced at the rearview mirror to see Ziva slurping on a cup of Berry Mango Madness. He felt the corners of his lips twitch; the Israeli had grown very fond of that slushy, and had practically begged Gibbs to make a stop at the nearest Jamba Juice on the way to the base, much to their amusement.

As if sensing him, Ziva raised her eyes to meet his through the mirror. She smiled and held up her cup. He shook his head before turning to the road.

After a series of turns, the Quantico base loomed in the distance. Getting out of the car, Gibbs made his way through the thankfully-empty gates toward the dormitory building. Hearing voices from inside the room, Gibbs opened the door to see Sergeant McMannis with a tall, young woman.

"Get out of my sight, Hannah," the Sergeant ordered upon seeing Gibbs. "I'll see you at the pull-up bars."

"With _pleasure_." The model sneered, saluting mockingly before turning around and leaving the room, giving Gibbs a flirtatious smile as she passed by him. Gibbs took in the twin scowls on Kate and Ziva's faces. Ziva's disdain for models withstanding, Kate and the model didn't hit it off, subtly sniping at each other during the questioning session earlier. In fact, Kate really looked like she wanted to shoot someone when the model flirted with him.

"This a bad time, Staff Sergeant?" Gibbs asked as Ziva closed the door behind them with a little more force than was needed.

McMannis shook his head, waving his hand. "No, sir. I'm counting the days until this reality show is off of my base." Judging by the frustrated expression on his face, the models must've been quite a handful.

"These models giving you a hard time?" Gibbs asked, exchanging glances with Kate and Ziva.

The Marine let out a chuckle. "I guess you could say that." Gibbs understood where he was coming from, having once dealt with a particularly irritating model on a case in 2001, if his memory served him correct. He remembered actually wanting to kill someone with his bare hands when it was finally over.

"We would like to speak with Thomas Crawley," Ziva said, swirling her cup a little.

"He asked not to be disturbed, ma'am." Gibbs could see Ziva scowl slightly at the address, but she simply nodded.

"With all due respect, a young woman died from a drug overdose while taping the show," Kate said pointedly. "We need to talk with him right away."

McMannis's eyes rounded. "Taylor overdosed?"

"Yeah." Gibbs guessed the Marine hadn't gathered that from the video feed they'd watched earlier, particularly her body movements. But then the video didn't exactly have the best quality.

"On what?" The Marine's voice was slightly thick with disbelief as he looked between them.

"PCP," Ziva replied. "Where is Crawley?"

McMannis didn't answer right away, shaking his head slightly as he turned away from them. "I can't believe it...she was on _PCP_?" He turned to Gibbs, not seeing Ziva's irritated face. "So that's why she tried to climb the fence...what happened?"

Crawley fed her chew laced with PCP, was what Gibbs wanted to say. "That's what we're gonna find out," he said instead.

The Staff Sergeant let out a sigh, looking down at the floor as he ran his hand over his buzz cut. "I didn't know she relapsed." He looked up at them. "She, uh, struggled with drug addiction in the past. It wasn't pretty, or so she told me, but she overcame it. She was pretty much against any drugs afterwards."

"Define 'drugs'," Kate said. Gibbs smiled at the brunette's words. This was exactly the kind of question he would ask.

"Heroin, cocaine, ecstasy, PCP, that kind of stuff," McMannis replied. "Like I said, her addiction got so bad that after she recovered, she refused to go near anything that resembled pills, even aspirin." He had a thoughtful look on his face, as if remembering their time together.

"How about tobacco?" Gibbs was aware that the Marine secretly chewed tobacco from time to time. If McMannis let slip about that habit, this would help out with the investigation. He didn't want to shift the focus of the investigation to McMannis without being obvious, though, knowing it would put him on the defensive.

McMannis blinked. "Tobacco?" He shook his head a little before continuing. "Um, Taylor smoked, but she was trying to quit." Gibbs had this gut feeling there was more to it.

"Did she dip tobacco as well?" Kate asked.

McMannis opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, his eyes darting between them. "She...dabbled in that stuff back then, but she said she stopped doing that." Realization began to dawn upon him. "_Wait_, are you saying that—?"

"We think her dip might've gotten laced with PCP," Gibbs replied.

Shock and disbelief came across McMannis's face once again. "Oh man..." He went over to a nearby desk, pulled a chair out and plopped down on it, holding his head in his hands for a moment.

"How do you think she got the dip?" Gibbs continued, walking over to the desk. The Marine's shoulders stiffened, and a moment passed before he lifted his head from his hands.

"Um, I-I have no idea, sir," Gibbs could tell a lie when he saw one. "She, um, told me she'd stopped the last time I saw her. I didn't know she was still dipping."

"When was the last time you saw her?" Ziva spoke up from Gibbs' side. McMannis looked like he was debating with himself for several moments.

"Last night. I mean, about one in the morning," he replied. "Taylor and I—we've been...hanging out a lot lately. We're not supposed to be out after lights out, but she insisted. She was pretty lucid at that time, though." Gibbs knew exactly what 'hanging out' meant.

"What'd you two do?" He asked.

"Took a stroll around the camp," McMannis said with a shrug. "Wasn't easy, not with all the cameras and patrols." For an instant, Gibbs' mind flashed back to the fall of 1976, where he would take nighttime strolls with his late friend Joan Matteson, getting a kick out of evading the patrols.

"Suppose one really wanted to get dip," Kate's voice brought him back to the present. "How would one get it in this camp?"

McMannis stared at her. He opened his mouth to say something but then decided against it, shaking his head slightly. He tried again, to no avail. Despite his respect for the Marine, Gibbs found himself growing impatient.

"The show," McMannis admitted at last, his shoulders slumping. "I'm aware that it's...against the rules and all that, but..." He heaved out a heavy sigh, looking ashamed. "I promised Taylor I'd quit, but that's easier said than done."

"So you supplied her with your snuff," Ziva said.

McMannis drummed his fingers on the desk. "Yes, ma'am." Ziva narrowed her eyes a bit.

"Who gave you the chew, Staff Sergeant?" Gibbs asked, giving him a pointed gaze. McMannis seemed to swallow before averting his eyes away.

"The show," he said before looking up at them. "The producer."

Satisfaction settled in the pit of Gibbs' stomach. "Where's Crawley?" He repeated Ziva's earlier question.

McMannis reluctantly pointed toward the door that they had entered. "His office. It's just outside that door."

"You think of anything else, let us know," Gibbs reached into his overcoat and gave him his card.

McMannis took it. "Will do, sir."

Gibbs looked at the Marine. "I wouldn't dip the stuff if I were you," he cautioned before turning around and leaving the room, the two females following him.

* * *

><p>Pushing his way into the darkened office, Gibbs saw a middle-aged man reclining in his desk in the far corner, holding a picture frame in his hand. He felt his gut coil in anger and disgust but maintained his composure as he went over to the desk.<p>

"Mr. Crawley? We'd like to speak with you," Kate called out. The man didn't reply, continuing to gaze at the picture, a single tear running down his face. "Mr. Crawley?" Ziva spoke in a slightly louder tone. Still no response.

Gibbs slowly exhaled, feeling impatience and annoyance course through him. "_Crawley!_"

The man jolted, nearly dropping his frame as he jerked his head to see them. "Oh...sorry about that," he croaked as he put the picture face-down on the desk. "I was thinking about my daughter. Her death just..." He trailed off, shaking his head as he gestured them toward a couple of chairs in front of his desk. "Please take a seat. What was it you wanted to ask me?"

"Taylor Shane was your daughter?" Ziva asked, still standing. Gibbs and Kate opted to stand as well.

Crawley nodded. "Step-daughter, actually. I became her legal guardian when she was fifteen. We've been through a lot together, but—" He shook his head, apparently choosing not to continue. Gibbs wondered what he had been about to say.

"Did you know she had a drug problem?" Kate asked, gazing at him intently. Gibbs recognized it as her profiler's eye.

Crawley grimaced before nodding. "Yeah, but she'd been clean and sober for the past two years." His brow creased. "Why?"

He was pretty good. "We were hoping you could tell us what happened last night," Gibbs replied, his hands clenching slightly at his sides. "She overdosed on PCP."

"No way, that's simply not possible," Crawley shook his head adamantly. "After what she'd went through, she would never go through that again."

"Well, she did," Gibbs said flatly.

"Did she get stressed?" Ziva asked, glancing at Gibbs and Kate. "Statistically, former addicts have a higher chance of a relapse in times of stress."

"But Taylor dealt with stress daily, and she didn't resort to drugs even once," Crawley protested, straightening up in his chair. Gibbs noticed the man's forehead was beginning to get sweaty. "In fact, this show did wonders for her stress. I've never seen her happier before in my life."

"Yeah, I'm sure the drugs helped out in that."

Crawley stared at him. "What are you saying?"

Gibbs inwardly smirked at the tremble in the producer's voice. "Oh, not much," he said, "Just that the show's been slipping her the chew."

"Are you saying that I gave her the stuff?" Crawley protested, getting to his feet.

Gibbs' eyebrow rose a little at this. "Did you?"

"No! I didn't, I wouldn't do that." Crawley shook his head, sitting back down. "I made sure she didn't go back to drugs after her treatment. "Like I said, we'd gone through a lot, and I really cared for her. She was the only one I had left." Gibbs had to stifle a snort at that. That man had a hell of a way of showing that he cared for his step-daughter.

"So how'd she OD?" Kate asked.

"No idea," Crawley shrugged. "But if you say somebody on the show's been giving her drugs, I'll get to the bottom of it. This show's intended to show to the world that being in the Marines can be a positive experience, not encourage drug use or anything like that."

He might've been more convincing if it weren't for the sweat, fidgeting hands, and the faint tremor in his voice. Gibbs exchanged glances with Kate and Ziva.

"Any idea who it might be?"

Crawley seemed to relax at Gibbs' question. "It was probably that Noah Keller guy. That big-shot boyfriend of hers who she broke up with a week ago," he explained, a dark scowl briefly coming over his face at the mention of Keller's name. "He kept trying to hook her on drugs. That's why she broke up with him. He didn't accept that, though, thinking that they were still together. In fact, he was here yesterday evening. I think he might've slipped her the heroin."

The slip of the tongue caused Gibbs to remember Keller's heroin 'overdose'. Kate gave the man an inquisitive look. "It was PCP, not heroin," she said. Crawley blinked, realizing his mistake before shaking his head.

"Oh, PCP, heroin, I get them confused sometimes." He chuckled with a wave of the hand, although he wasn't looking at them. "I think the other models might know something." He stood up and started for the door.

"No need," Gibbs called out, stopping the producer in his tracks. "We already talked to them. They didn't see anything last night."

Crawley raised his eyebrows, his eyes darting between them. "You sure? It can't hurt to ask them again, though. There might be something they missed. One of the models had a large problem with Taylor, you know." Mistaking the look on Gibbs' face for confusion, Crawley continued: "Hannah. She had it out for Taylor from the beginning. Kept on picking fights with her despite Taylor's attempts to befriend her."

"You think she might've something to do with this?" Kate asked. The lines on Crawley's face were prominent as he frowned.

"I hope not, but I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. If so, I _swear_ I'll—"

"You'll _what_?" Gibbs cut him off, taking a step closer, his hands balling once again. He knew exactly what he would do to Crawley if given the chance.

Crawley stared at Gibbs with alarm. "I-I'm just saying that they might know something. That's all," he backtracked. Gibbs looked at the producer for a long moment, making him fidget on his feet. "Okay. You think of anything, let us know." He didn't give him the card, though.

"Of course." Crawley nodded shakily as he went back to his desk. Gibbs gave him one last glare before leaving.

"Something doesn't add up," Kate commented thoughtfully as they left the building.

Ziva nodded. "Yes, he was as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof."

"I think you mean a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs," Kate pointed out, sounding amused. Ziva's brow knitted and she cocked her head a little. "Why would a cat get nervous by rocking chairs?"

"Good question, Ziver," Gibbs said with a smirk as he got into the car. "What doesn't add up, Katie?"

"Well, his statements don't exactly match up with McMannis's. The Sergeant said he got the snuff from the producer, and Crawley is one. That means he had to have known about it," Kate said as she turned toward him in the front passenger seat. "And then there's the way he was acting."

"And not to mention, he said something about heroin. You cannot confuse heroin with PCP," Ziva piped up.

Right at that moment, Gibbs' cell rang and he picked it up. "Yeah, Gibbs."

"_Boss, we found Keller._"

"Yeah, DiNozzo?"

"_According to his Amex records, he was staying at the Cranston Motel, right outside Quantico_," came the reply, and he knew what was coming next. "_He's dead_."

Gibbs hung up, turning to Kate and Ziva, who was looking at him intently. "We found Keller," he explained as he turned the ignition and pulled away from the base. "He OD'ed."

* * *

><p>"A death is never easy, Jethro," Ducky was saying as he retrieved the liver probe from one of his medical bags on and went over to Noah Keller's body nearly hanging off the bed. "More so when there are two within a day of each other from self-inflicted causes, and at such a young age. This is truly tragic."<p>

Gibbs had to agree with that. He'd seen far too many people die right before his eyes, one of them who were in this room right now. He mustered enough willpower to keep the memories of his Kate laying on that warehouse rooftop out of his mind. That would never happen this time, he firmly told himself. The bastard who shot her was long dead and gone.

"Yeah, Duck." Gibbs crouched and snapped a couple of pictures of a syringe lying on the floor next to the bed. He then picked it up and placed it into an evidence bag.

"These people have everything, money, fame, supermodels, everything," DiNozzo remarked, a slight grimace on his face as he looked at the corpse. "And yet they end up like that."

"Makes you glad your father cut you off when you were a kid, doesn't it?" Kate said off-handedly, sketching on her pad. DiNozzo stared at the brunette. "How do you know that?" Kate grinned in reply, exchanging glances with a smirking Ziva.

Looking at Kate brought memories of the drawings she'd done of him and the team, which Ziva had given to him after Kate's death. They were damn good drawings, with remarkable attention to detail, and the sketch of him was easily the best of the bunch, with great effort seemingly poured into it. It became one of his most treasured possessions, and he kept it locked in his desk for years, taking it out only on the anniversaries of her death. Now it belonged to Kate once more, and he didn't ask about it.

Gibbs turned to Ducky. "How'd he die?"

"Well, judging by the froth around his mouth, pinpoint pupils, and blue discoloration around the fingernails—" Ducky pointed at the mouth and eyes before picking one of the hands up and showing the fingernails. "—I would say that he overdosed on diacetylmorphine."

"Heroin," Gibbs concluded, remembering Crawley's slip-up. Something caught his eye and he reached under the bed to find a blue bag. He unzipped it and reached in, pulling out a small packet containing a white substance.

"Yes. He has been dead approximately twenty-four hours." Ducky said as he examined the reading on the liver probe.

"That means he offed himself on the same night Taylor OD'ed," DiNozzo said.

"Boss, I think I may have found something," McGee called out, holding up a pink envelope. He carefully pulled out a notebook paper and unfolded it.

"That a suicide note, McGee?" Gibbs asked, knowing otherwise.

The probationary agent shook his head as he read the note. "Not exactly." He passed it on to Gibbs, who squinted his eyes a little to try to see it clearer. It particularly didn't help that Taylor apparently used loopy handwriting. The words were still blurry so he tried to hold it at arm's length, to no avail. "I need my glasses," he muttered, aware that he either left it at the office or home.

"Let me read that out for you," Kate said with a smile as she took the letter and envelope, their fingers brushing. After reading the content of the letter, Kate concluded that it was a Dear John letter. "It was postmarked nearly a week ago," she said, handing the papers back to McGee, only for DiNozzo to snatch them.

"You know, this reminds me of Romeo and Juliet, only that—" DiNozzo said thoughtfully, reading the letter.

"Do the handwriting match?" Gibbs cut him off, annoyance evident in his voice. The Special Agent looked between the paper and envelope. "Looks like a match to me, boss."

He nodded, standing up. "Pack everything, including the car," he instructed, not seeing the raised eyebrows on some of his agents' faces.

"Um, that might be a little difficult, fitting that car in this," Kate gave him a dimpled grin, holding up an evidence bag. "But we'll try our best." Gibbs smirked at her before leaving the room.

Less than an hour of gut-wrenching driving later, he pulled the Dodge Charger into the parking lot. The NCIS Emergency Response Van had yet to arrive, thanks to Palmer, but they'd arranged for Keller's car to be transported to the Evidence Garage later in the day. DiNozzo and McGee had somehow gotten lost in traffic, but would arrive soon.

"How would the dead have rights?"

Gibbs glanced at Kate, who looked exasperated as she tried to explain the idiom, "dead to rights", to Ziva. It had started when Ziva casually mentioned that Keller had "become a cold turkey", but somehow their conversation turned to a list of idioms. They'd spent the drive explaining to the Israeli about "facing the music", "losing your touch", "on the ball", "blow off steam", and so on.

"They don't," he said, getting out of the car and heading to the Headquarters. The elevator opened to reveal Abby, whose face broke out into a grin.

"Gibbs! Kate! Ziva! Am I glad to see you!" The forensic scientist exclaimed as she wrapped them into a bone-crushing three-way hug.

"Me too," Kate said as she patted the Lab Rat on the back.

"So I did a thorough search of the victim's clothes," Abby said, stepping back and pressing the button to her floor. "And let me tell you, it wasn't easy because they were so filthy. But it makes you wonder what she was doing before her death, doesn't it? Anyways, I managed to break down the origin of each and every stain."

Gibbs nodded. "And?"

"Aaaaand most were blood, mud, rust, and sweat."

"I'm sure there are more to that," Kate said.

Abby nodded. "There are. I'll show you." She bounded out of the elevator, and Gibbs had to smile at that. In the Lab, Abby was standing in front of the evidence table, which was covered by various articles of clothing.

"See this stain here?" Abby turned over the lapel of the shirt she was holding to reveal a small, reddish-brown stain. "It contains traces of PCP mixed with formaldehyde, sodium, and nicotine."

"Tobacco," Gibbs said.

Abby nodded. "Yep! The stuff that's found not only in cigarettes, but in snuff as well. And speaking of which..." She went over to her computer station, and a picture of a snuff can appeared on the screen. The words 'Carlo' was displayed across the front, along with smaller words under it. "I matched the tobacco to this snuff. It's a good chance it was laced with PCP, although we'll have to figure out the exact milligrams that caused the victim to overdose, to be sure."

"What is the usual amount for a user?" Ziva asked. Abby tilted her head in thought. "Hmm, I'd say between seven and ten milligrams."

"Good job, Abs." Gibbs fished for his cell.

"That's not all, though." Abby's voice stilled his hand. "I got the Quantico footage while you were away. Boot Camp Babes...that's an interesting name, don't you think?"

"Not as interesting as what ya got, Abs."

Abby's grin widened as she went to work. The picture was replaced by a video footage, one that he hadn't seen before. Three military vehicles were visible, and so were two persons in the distance. The time was 1:13 AM. "I looked through all the footage from the night Taylor Shane died. She was nowhere to be seen."

"She probably knew where the cameras were placed and how to avoid them. That goes for the patrols as well," Ziva said.

Abby put a finger up. "Ah, ah, but not all of them. You see, this's from a security camera that was on the top of the mess hall. This video was taken about two hours before her death." She then put her finger down into her keyboard, starting the video.

The figures moved haltingly across the screen, the result of the acceleration. Their features were blurred.

"Can you zoom in?" Gibbs asked, squinting. As if realizing this, Abby clicked a button and the feed was channeled to the overhead monitor. Gibbs and Kate moved toward it.

"My new enhancement program is booting up as we speak," the forensic scientist said excitedly, her fingers rapidly moving all over the keyboard. "I've been waiting for the chance to bust out this bad boy!"

"Yeah, me too," Gibbs said, eliciting a soft giggle from Kate. The program zoomed on in to the figures and magnified it, working rapidly to clear their features. Within seconds, the faces were visible. One of them was Staff Sergeant McMannis. Still looking at the monitor, Gibbs dialed his cell.

"_Boss?_"

"Go back to Quantico, DiNozzo. Get the Staff Sergeant over here. Tell him to bring his chew." He then thought of something. "And the producer too."

"_Aw, c'mon. You're not kidding me, are you, boss? We've just arrived in DC and—_" Gibbs flipped the cell closed and turned to Abby.

"I want you to do something for me."

"Anything…within reason," Abby teased, and Gibbs chuckled. "I want you to check out two models, get everything. Ziva'll fill you in." The Israeli raised her eyebrows a little.

"Hmm...models usually aren't my type, but I'm willing to try," said Abby. Thank God DiNozzo wasn't here to hear that.

* * *

><p>"I'm not in trouble, am I?"<p>

DiNozzo glanced at the Marine standing next to him in the Observation room. "If you were, you'd be sitting there like this guy, waiting for Gibbs to finally start." Crawley was fidgeting in Interrogation, his face glistening under the glare of the light. He had been sitting there for over an hour.

"I suppose not, sir." McMannis muttered.

DiNozzo's grin widened. "That's one of the Boss's techniques." Kate and Ziva rolled their eyes. "Yeah, he leaves the guy alone in a cold, dimly-lit room long enough for him to zone out. And then, just when he's about to do that, he—"

Right that moment, Gibbs burst into the room, slamming the door behind him. DiNozzo let out a distinctly feminine yelp, nearly dropping his can of Sprite. Kate stifled her laughter, while Ziva had a wide grin. McMannis only smirked. "What's the hell with you, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"I was just telling the Staff Sergeant here about your interrogation—" DiNozzo began explaining, only be cut off.

"He just got 'interrogated' by you," Kate interrupted, still giggling. The Special Agent shot her a dark look.

Gibbs was glad to know that he could still catch some of his agents completely off-guard from time to time. "I'm not interrogating Crawley." He decided to use the same tactic as the last time. "You are."

DiNozzo reached for the folder. "Thanks boss. I could've used a little more prep time, but—" Gibbs whacked him on the head with the folder. "Not you." He looked over at Ziva, handing over the folder to her. "You're doing the interrogation, Ziver."

The Israeli looked at him meaningfully. "You are aware that I have never performed an interrogation without inflicting some sort of pain in some way, correct?"

"That's what I'm countin' on," Gibbs replied. Ziva gave him a small smile as she retrieved the folder and left the room.

"How ya holding up, Staff Sergeant?" Gibbs asked, watching Ziva enter the Interrogation room. McMannis sighed, glancing at him. "As best as I can, sir."

"Good to know." He smirked when Ziva dragged the chair to the window before sitting on it. It was a simple, yet devastatingly effective technique. Many of her victims tended to let their guards down because of the added distance (and not to mention, because she was a woman), only to receive a nasty surprise.

And that's not mentioning that she punched a suspect in the face during her first interrogation a few months ago.

"That's an interesting technique," DiNozzo commented.

"She doesn't want to tempt herself," said Kate.

Gibbs nodded. "No point ending it before it even begins."

"Isn't that what you do, Special Agent Gibbs?" Kate's smile was impish. Gibbs' gut constricted a bit before he returned her smirk. "Not when I'm with certain ones." He leant closer to her. "I like to take my time, gathering _everything_ as much as possible." He swore Kate shuddered a bit.

"Of course you do," she mumbled, blushing slightly. He noticed DiNozzo looking between them and gave him the Glare. The Special Agent hastily looked away. McMannis, who was apparently unaffected, smiled wistfully before turning back to the interrogation.

"Why am I here? I thought I already told you everything." Crawley said.

"Not exactly," Ziva said coolly as she opened the folder and thumbed through it. "You lied when you said you had no idea how Taylor Shane overdosed. Why?"

"I-I wasn't lying, I really didn't know! I was, um, going to investigate when your agents brought me here, that's all, I _swear_!" The producer protested, a drop of sweat running down the side of his face. He wiped it away.

"Huh, by investigating, you mean overdosing your models with PCP to make sure they do not blurt, no?" Gibbs felt his heart swell up with pride at the Mossad officer. Crawley's eyes grew wide and he slammed his hands on the table, the sounds reverberating around the silent room.

"Are you saying that I poisoned my own daughter?" He exclaimed incredulously. "You've gotta be kidding me, I would _never_ do that! I loved her!" If he didn't know better, Gibbs would've thought the man almost looked guilty.

"I was actually referring to the other models, Hannah Bressling and Natalie Vance, but thank you for that information."

Crawley's jowls dangled as he opened and closed his mouth. "I didn't poison anyone, and neither do I-I give out drugs like treats! There are strict rules at the camp." He shook his head, his forehead sweaty once again. "Why aren't the models here? You should be questioning them instead. One of them had a major problem with Taylor, you should check that out!"

"Actually, we did," Ziva leaned forward in her chair. "Their alibi checked out, and their fingerprints did not match the ones that we found on this." She pulled something out of the folder, and Crawley's eyes widened.

"So you recognize this? Good." Gibbs could practically hear the predatory smile in the Israeli's voice, and he shared a glance with Kate.

"Um...uh..." Crawley was rendered speechless as he gaped at the plastic-covered snuff can that Ziva was holding in her hand. "We found fingerprints on that." Ziva wiggled the can before putting it back into the folder and retrieving another piece of evidence. "And this as well." She held up the bag containing the syringe. "They were yours."

"No-no, you've got it all wrong!" Crawley sputtered, getting up from his chair. "You probably—"

"Sit down!" Ziva barked sharply, and the producer reluctantly complied.

"This is very entertaining," DiNozzo said, grinning widely. "Wish I'd brought popcorn."

"Well, go get it," Kate said with a smirk. DiNozzo scoffed.

"Um, sir?" Gibbs turned to McMannis, who had a slight frown on his face as he looked at Crawley through the one-way window. "Do you think he had anything to do with-with everything that's happened?"

"You'll find out," Gibbs replied.

"You must've mixed me up with someone," Crawley continued to protest, wiping his brow. "I've never touched them!"

"Fingerprints do not lie," Ziva said pointedly. "You used this to inject the unconscious Noah Keller with a fatal dose of heroin. It helped that he was really drunk, yes?"

The producer was shaking his head. "No, I didn't...it can't be, you're mistaken—"

Gibbs let out a sigh. That guy just didn't know when to give up. But then, most people don't when they're backed into a corner.

"This guy just doesn't know when to give up, does he?" Kate said, seemingly reading his thoughts. He turned to her with a lopsided smile.

"And that is not all," Ziva continued, ignoring the producer's denials. "We found large amounts of PCP in the snuff can. Four hundred milligrams of PCP, to be exact. Enough to kill a person at least forty times over."

Gibbs turned to see a stone-faced McMannis looking into the interrogation room, his fists tightly clenched at his sides. He thought about allowing the Marine to confront the producer, but thought better of it. Even without the PCP boost, McMannis was a pretty strong person, and the results probably wouldn't be pretty.

Turning to the interrogation, he noticed Crawley was holding his face in his hands, having apparently broke down under Ziva's revelations.

"It wasn't supposed to happen," The producer blubbered, tears running down his face. "It was an accident, I swear!"

"No, it was not," Ziva said coldly. "You did not want Taylor to give up her career to be with a Marine, but you could not stop her. So you decided to use her nicotine addiction to – how you say – teach her a lesson." She stood up, tossed the folder on the desk, and got her cuffs out. "Thomas Crawley, you are under arrest for murder."

"What was I _supposed_ to do?" Crawley protested as he was yanked to his feet and his wrists cuffed behind his back. "I couldn't let her throw her life away like that!" Ziva rolled her eyes as she dragged him out of the room.

McMannis continued to stand there, staring at the empty room. Gibbs put his hand on the Marine's shoulders. "It's not your fault, Sergeant."

"Still...I gave her the snuff that caused her to..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

Gibbs tightened his grip. "Don't. You didn't do this. He did."

"Yeah..." McMannis swallowed thickly. "I...I loved her. Taylor...she was special, nothing like her reputation. She...she..." He trailed off, shaking his head. Gibbs understood exactly how he felt, having gone that dark road after Shannon and Kelly's deaths – and Kate's death as well.

"We never forget the ones we love," Gibbs said. "We only move on, that's what we do."

At McMannis's nod, Gibbs gave one last squeeze before leaving Observation.

"Didn't know you were so eloquent," Kate broke the silence a couple of moments later. Gibbs snorted, feeling his somber mood fade.

"I look like a poet to ya, Agent Todd?"

"No, but you look like a Meritorious Civilian Service Award recipient to me."

Gibbs let out a laugh as he pressed the elevator button. As he entered, a thought hit him, and he turned to DiNozzo. "Go help Ziva or Abby with something."

The Special Agent's face creased in confusion. "Help with what?" Gibbs made no reply as the elevator doors closed, leaving him alone with Kate. When the elevator began moving, he felt a ball of tension grow in his gut as he glanced at the brunette, who seemed to be fidgeting with her hands.

Before he knew it, he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. She squeaked in surprise, but relaxed against him, wrapping her arm around him and tucking her head into his neck. It felt right, he thought as he took in her vanilla scent, the way their bodies fit each other. He had felt that way with only one other person before – Shannon.

He would probably headslap himself later, but for now, he would enjoy the moment.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Should I increase the fluff a bit more or keep it as it is? Also, should I shorten future chapters a bit?


	28. Gibbs of Christmas Past

**A/N:** Pardon me for the delay. My muse escaped and I had to launch a massive manhunt. I managed to recapture it, so here's the update. Also, I found out that one of the upcoming episodes is called "Blast from the Past." Loves Jack mentioned that, but it wasn't listed on the NCIS wiki at that time...unless I've been looking in the wrong place. But anyways, what do you think that episode will be about?

Reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Eight:<strong>  
>Gibbs of Christmas Past<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p><em>December 24, 2005<em>  
><em>6:30 AM<em>  
><em>Rose Garden Apartments<em>  
><em>Washington, D.C.<em>

He didn't know why he was here. He'd planned to stay in his basement all day, working on his boat and bourbon, but now here he was, standing on the second floor of the apartment building at six-thirty in the morning.

Gibbs swallowed thickly as his finger hovered above the doorbell next to Kate's door. He had never felt so foolish as he was at that moment, like some adolescent at his crush's place or something. He hated feeling that way, yet it couldn't be helped when it came to Kate Todd.

Logically, he could turn around and force himself to walk away, get into his Ford, return to his house, and drown himself in bourbon and sawdust once again. It was really simple, and all he had to do was turn his body around, put one foot in front of the other – and give himself a good headslap along the way. Too bad logic never worked that way when it came to him.

He jolted a little when a deafening chime rang through the hallway, and he realized that his finger had pressed on the doorbell on its own accord. Cursing himself, he considered running away once again – and immediately smothered the thought because it wouldn't be nice to do that to Kate, especially when it was something DiNozzo would definitely do.

He was not DiNozzo – nevermind that he used to be like him, according to Ducky.

Time seemed to stretch on as he stood there, his gut clenching and his feet growing restless by the minute. His heart beat loudly in his ears, and he tried to muster his willpower to force the strange feelings away. It seemed to work, and he felt himself relaxing slightly.

"Coming." The sound of her tired voice caused him to think that, perhaps, he shouldn't have woken her up so early in the morning. It was a Saturday, and there were no cases for them to work over the weekend (and he doubted that one would pop up). As he listened to her footsteps toward the door, he hoped she wouldn't shoot him or something, although a part of him mused that it was worth it to spend the day with her.

Christmas 2005 was a lonely time the last time, like the previous Christmases, and he wanted to break that monotony. He began clenching and unclenching his hands, feeling his knuckles crack every time. The door swung open, and he barely held in a groan as he took her in.

That bedhead. Call him weird or something, but he kinda had this thing for them and it didn't particularly help that Kate looked really good even if she just got out of bed. Smothering his urges to pull her close and do something he might regret, Gibbs pasted on his customary half-smirk at her shocked face.

"Gibbs...?" The sleepy tone in her tone that he had heard earlier had seemingly disappeared.

"Who else?" He kept his eyes connected with hers. Nevermind that the snug, blue robe fitted her really, _really_ well, and that it stopped right before her knees. And that if he looked down a little, he could see down her—

"You do realize it's almost seven in the morning?" Kate asked with a light glare.

His smirk intensified at the way she was subconsciously pulling her robe tighter around herself. "Yeah."

Kate's eyebrows quirked. "On a _Saturday_?" She was now running her hands through her hair, trying to tame her unkempt locks, and he nearly protested at that.

"Yeah." She didn't look like she was going to shoot him, but then who knew what she had in that robe of hers? A naughty thought appeared in his mind, and he quashed it with extreme prejudice. She had to get ready and soon, he thought, because his urges were beginning to stir once again.

Kate put her head slightly to the side as she looked at him. "We don't have a case, do we?"

It wasn't uncommon for the MCRT to work cases on weekends; many an occasion, the weekend became an extension of the workweek whenever a new case popped up. "If we did, I wouldn't be standing here right now," Gibbs replied with a chuckle.

Shaking her head, Kate glanced down at herself. "Um...you want to come in for coffee?" She was fidgeting with her robe belt.

He'd already had coffee, but who was he to turn it down? "I'd like that, Katie," he replied with a smile. Kate returned it as she opened the door wider and stepped aside. As soon he crossed the threshold, a strong vanilla aroma slammed into him full-force, and he paused to take it in for a moment.

Gibbs looked around the living room. There was a decent-sized Christmas tree in one corner, a pair of striped stockings above her fireplace, a Santa figure on the mantel, and a small wreath on the wall above the fireplace. There were some presents under the tree, and the best part was that there were no mistletoe in sight.

He've had to avoid that accursed plant that Abby seemed intent on planting everywhere in the NCIS building. She kept on trying to get him and Kate under one – and actually succeeded last Thursday, and he'd given a blushing Kate a kiss on the cheek in front of the Lab Rat. Her intimations about them, however, grated on his nerves at times – but he loved his forensic scientist far too much to do anything, so he took it in stride the best he could.

Something else, however, flashed in his mind for an instant. The last time he was here, he'd been with Jenny, frantically searching for the kidnapped Kate. Another memory popped up: him sitting on that couch, his head in his hands. It had been a few days after her funeral.

"Gibbs?" He snapped back to reality, turning to see Kate's concerned face. "Are you okay?"

He half-smiled at her tone. "Just need coffee."

She gave him a disbelieving look, but nodded before heading down the hallway to the kitchen. He swore that her hips swayed a bit, and he opted to stay in the living room. Who knew what he might do with a scantily-clad brunette in the kitchen, otherwise?

_Whap!_

He went over to the bookshelf, where the grinning President Bush greeted him from the picture frame, a smiling Kate at his side. He picked up the frame for a closer look.

"That was taken over two years ago." He turned to see her walking toward him, two steaming mugs in hand. "That wasn't long after his speech." She was referring to the infamous 'Mission Accomplished' speech the President made abroad the USS _Abraham Lincoln_.

Setting the frame down, he took one of the mugs and sipped it, relishing in the scalding liquid that burned its way to his stomach. It was just the way he liked it, and it wasn't too often anyone would make his ideal coffee perfectly. DiNozzo had tried to make a cup of coffee for him once, years ago, and needless to say, he'd rather give up coffee altogether than drink coffee brewed by DiNozzo ever again. He felt his considerable respect for Kate grow, along with something else that he suppressed.

"Good coffee," he said approvingly as he went to the couch.

"I do my best," Kate said, beaming. He'd figured that she would get ready, hence his surprise when she sat next to him, their knees touching. The lapel of her robe parted slightly, and he averted his eyes away, taking a large gulp of the coffee. The fireplace suddenly looked interesting.

"Nice decorations," he commented idly, eyeing the Santa figure. It seemed to smile at him jovially as it carried the bulging bag over its shoulders. For a moment, he was brought back to Christmas '90, and Kelly had a wide grin as she looked at the dollhouse that she'd wanted for so long. "Thank you Daddy!" She'd all but screamed as she threw her arms around his neck, and Shannon had watched on with a loving smile.

Dealing with crazed, last-minute Christmas shoppers had been worth it to see the happiness on his daughter's face. The dollhouse was the last one left, and he'd barely beat someone to the punch, emphasis on 'punch'.

If only he'd known that this would be the last Christmas he spent with them, he'd have done something. Hindsight was a bitch at times. A soft hand on his shoulder jolted him into the real world, and he turned to see concerned hazel eyes staring at him. Seeing the questions in them, Gibbs realized that she'd said something and that he'd zoned out. "Something on my mind," he replied, sipping his coffee. "You were sayin' something?"

Kate looked at him for a moment, sipping her coffee delicately. "Yes, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Thought you'd like some company," Gibbs replied with a light shrug.

The corners of Kate's lips twitched. "So early in the morning?"

A thought came to Gibbs, and he inwardly smirked. Draining the rest of his coffee, he set the mug on the coffee table. "I can come back later." He stood up – only for Kate to grab his arm and yank him back down with surprising strength.

"Never said I wanted you to leave," she pointed out.

"Well, if you insist," he quipped. Kate smirked as she drank her coffee, still holding on him. As a comfortable silence descended upon them, Gibbs thought of several dozen ways to put it to her – and rejected them for various reasons.

"Katie, I wanna—uh, I was gonna..." He trailed off, cursing the fact that he sounded a bit tongue-tied. It made sense in his mind, so something must've gotten lost in translation. Kate was looking at him intently. Licking his lips, he tried again: "I'm gonna go to Stillwater. You, uh, wanna go with me?" As hard he tried, he couldn't keep the hopeful tone out of his voice.

Kate cocked her head. "Stillwater?"

He realized that he had never told his agents about his hometown – and anything about his life, really. DiNozzo had found out later on, and only by hacking his records. "Town where I grew up," he replied, looking at Kate's fascinated face.

Kate nodded with a smile. "Sure, I'll go with you, Jethro."

It slipped out before he even realized it. "It's a date, then." Why the hell did he just say that? The silence was almost awkward, and he fiddled with the empty mug in his hands so he couldn't slap himself.

"I'll get ready," Kate said quietly, her cheeks pink, before getting up and walking to her bedroom. Gibbs heaved out a sigh, leaning his head back on the couch.

* * *

><p>Driving through the snow-covered streets of Stillwater brought back memories. In the distance, he could see the Stillwater Church where his family used to attend when he was a kid, and the shop that his father managed – still manages.<p>

As he pulled his Ford to a stop in front of the two-story house that he'd grew up in, next to his father's red pickup truck in the paved driveway, he felt apprehension building up in the pit of his stomach. At this time, he'd been estranged from his father for years. He remembered the argument he had with his father shortly after Shannon and Kelly's funeral:

_"How could you bring her, Dad?"_

_The lines on his father's face seemed to deepen. "Somebody's gonna move on, Leroy! I loved your mom very much, but I can't spend the rest of my life mopin' around, and you know that!"_

_Gibbs chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, bringin' a date to a funeral's hell of a way of moving on."_

_His father's eyes were reproachful. "She wanted to go, to show respect. Look, I know yer's mad and all that, but don't take it out on me. I'm as devastated as you are."_

_Gibbs shook his head. "No, you aren't, Dad," he spat bitterly. "You don't know the half of it."_

_Fire flared in Jackson's eyes. "You think I don't know how this feels? You weren't the only one who was grievin' after she passed on. I had to deal with it myself as such as you did, for years, so don't you dare tell me that I don't know how I feel, Leroy!"_

_Gritting his teeth, Gibbs shook his head. "Whatever, Dad." He turned and left the shop, not to speak with his father for over a decade._

Blinking back to the present, Gibbs had to admit that he had been overreacting to his father bringing his date to the funeral – it was petty and all that – but he've been in a very dark place at that time. It was a private affair, and the presence of that woman was a severe affront. His thoughts then turned to that day, in May 2014, when Vance informed him of what had happened to his father. As with Kate and Jenny and the others, he knew it would take time to get used to the fact that his father was alive and well this time around.

Glancing at Kate, who was looking at him with worry, he got out of the Ford. Given that his work schedule had prevented him from visiting his father in the past several months, today was as good a time as any to bury the hatchet between them.

As he bounded the steps two at a time, the front screen door opened. A wrinkled, pudgy man in his mid-seventies emerged, dressed in a thick winter jacket and holding a cane. Gibbs stopped on the steps at the familiar sight of his father, who appeared not to notice him yet. Knowing that his father was alive was one thing, but to actually meet him in person was another.

After a moment, Jackson Gibbs glanced up – and nearly did a double take. "Leroy?" He whispered, his blue eyes widening as they connected with that of his son.

Gibbs gave a imperceptible nod at the sound of the voice that he had thought he would never hear again. "Dad." Unlike the last time, when he'd reunited with his father on the Ethan Lacombe case in the fall of 2008, Gibbs wasn't filled with bitterness.

Jackson opened and closed his mouth, but no word came out. "About _damn_ time you came by to say 'Hi', son," he said at last.

Gibbs smirked at his father's words, feeling like the ice between them was cracking. "Well, yeah, I've been busy, Dad."

Jackson's eyebrows rose. "Too busy to even call or write?" He glanced at Kate, who watched the exchange. "Who's that lovely lady with you?"

"I'm Kate Todd," Kate glanced at Gibbs as she introduced herself, extending her hand out. Jackson took her hand and raised it to his mouth, causing her dimpled smile to widen.

"A pleasure meetin' you, milady," the elder Gibbs said. "I thought Leroy here would be alone for the rest of his life. He should've told me or something."

Gibbs let out a sigh, ignoring his churning gut. "Dad, Kate's one of my agents." For some reason, it felt a little funny saying that, and a glance at the brunette revealed that her cheeks were red – and he didn't know if it had something to do with the cold weather or not.

Jackson blinked in surprise. "You on a case or something?" He looked like he realized something, and shook his head. "Oh, what am I doing, keeping you two out in this weather? C'mon, it's warm inside." He opened the screen door and held it open with his cane. "I was goin' to the shop, but I guess it'll manage fine without me for today."

In a way, it did. The shop continued to make a profit under its new owner, Cal Fraser, Jackson's storekeeper. Grabbing the doorknob, Gibbs smirked to himself, remembering that his father left the front door unlocked as he always did. It was one of many reasons for the constant arguments he had with his mother when Gibbs was young.

Warmness and nostalgia swept over him as he took in the cramped living room, and he was almost sure his mother would emerge from the adjoining kitchen, telling him that dinner was almost ready – dinner being her famous shepherd's pie that he particularly loved.

"So this is where you grew up..." He turned to the brunette, who was taking in her surroundings. He had to smile at her intrigued face.

"Yeah, I was raised here, believe it or not."

Kate gave him a look. "Oh, I believe you." He was about to make a reply when Jackson's voice interrupted.

"Y'all want some coffee?" He asked, a knowing glint in his eyes directed at his son.

"I'll do it, Dad." Gibbs made his way to the kitchen. Jackson shook his head, following his son.

"No, no, you're all guests. I can do—"

"Dad. I'll do the coffee. Think of it as my way of makin' it up to ya," Gibbs interjected firmly. Jackson looked like he was about to object, but finally relented in the end. "I suppose so," the old man muttered under his breath, watching Gibbs walk away. "Stubborn lad, that son of mine."

"Wouldn't I know it," Kate said with a knowing smile. Gibbs shook his head as he prepared coffee. A moment later, three mugs of coffee were on the kitchen table.

"Son, I want ya to know I appreciate you visiting, and on Christmas Eve too," Jackson broke the silence.

Gibbs raised his mug to his lips. His father and Kate were the only ones in the world who know how to make coffee that didn't make him spit out in disgust. "Least I could do," he replied.

"So, tell me about this investigator thing of yours." Jackson looked between Gibbs and Kate. "How long've you worked together?"

"Over two years," Kate replied. "It's been a..._challenge_, so to say, but it's been a rewarding experience."

Gibbs stifled a snort, causing Kate to narrow her eyes at him. "Yeah. She, ah, rises to the challenge. It's a miracle she didn't quit."

"It's also a miracle I didn't shoot a certain someone." She shot Gibbs a pointed look.

Jackson chuckled as he drank his coffee. "Leroy has that kind of effect on people, makes people want to shoot him." Gibbs rolled his eyes when Kate nodded in agreement.

"You know," Jackson continued, addressing his son. Gibbs had this feeling in his stomach what he was about to say, and he didn't exactly want to delve into that matter just yet. "You never told me anything about becoming an investigator. I didn't even learn about it until a couple of years back." Jackson didn't mask his disappointment.

"Ah...it came to me one day," Gibbs replied vaguely. "Opportunity presented itself, I took it."

The elder Gibbs remained silent as he looked at his son. "It wouldn't have to do—" He stopped himself, glancing at Kate.

"She knows," Gibbs said after a long moment.

Jackson nodded slowly, drinking the coffee. "Well, I won't elaborate on it, that's up to him," he said to Kate. "But...things haven't been exactly great between us."

Kate blinked, looking between the men. "You mean, you haven't spoken in years?"

"More or less," Gibbs supplied, giving his father a pointed look.

Jackson set his jaw as he drummed his fingers on the table. "Eh, we're Gibbs men, some things can't be helped," he said with a shrug. "But that's water under the bridge, or at least I hope so."

Gibbs nodded. "It is." A smile slowly came across Jackson's face, his age lines receding a bit.

"So, when'd you join NCIS?" Kate asked curiously.

Gibbs looked at her, aware that there was so much about himself that he didn't tell her. "1992, it was called NIS back then. Naval Investigative Service," he explained the last part for his audience of two. "I became leader of my own team in '96, and the rest is history."

"Must of hell of a history," Jackson half-joked, slowly rotating his mug with his hands. "Growing up, he wanted to join the Marines. I wouldn't let him, but he had to get his way, and so he did." Jackson had a wistful smile on his face. "Well, son, it appears you've got things in order."

"Yeah," Gibbs agreed. He had set things in order since 'returning' to 2005, and he intended to keep it that way. Anyone who messed with that did so at their mortal peril.

* * *

><p>He woke with a start.<p>

The strange thing, he noticed right away, was that he didn't remember what he had been dreaming about. It was like it had evaporated the moment he opened his eyes, where normally, it would've stuck to him like a wet blanket. Case in point: his wet dream of Kate over a month earlier.

Another strange thing was that he appeared to be in a different place. Panic surged through him for an instant before he realized where he was: in one of his childhood home's three bedrooms. This had to be the guest bedroom as his old one was cluttered with various supplies and equipment. He smirked at the memory of his father admitting, sheepishly, that he had been using it as storage for years.

It was at that moment he noticed something else: something pressing against his body. When a scent of vanilla wafted across his nose, his eyes widened and he glanced down to see Kate sleeping at his right side. Her head was resting against his neck and her arm was resting across his chest – and his own was wrapped around her shoulder, holding her close.

His chest felt like it was constricting, and he found himself taking a deep breath. He hadn't felt anything like that since Shannon, and he wondered if he should be scared when he found that he didn't want to move away, at all.

Unfortunately, a _certain_ part of him began stirring, and it didn't particularly help that Kate's leg was draped near it. Gulping, he tried to move away – only for Kate to tighten her grip on him. How did she get so strong? He wondered before mentally slapping himself. She was part of the Secret Service presidential detail for a reason.

He whimpered when her knee inadvertently brushed up against his thingamajig, and he tried to think of anything, _anything_, to make it go away. DiNozzo in a revealing cowboy suit, McGee making out with DiNozzo, Vance in a birthday suit, and Ducky in a tight skirt. They all seemed to do the trick, and he found himself deflating. He'd puke his stomach out later, but for now, he had to focus on extricating himself from his Katie.

God, what was wrong with him?

Deciding to test the waters, he tried to move away once again. Kate only snuggled tighter against him, and he sighed, giving up.

Why didn't he take the couch downstairs? He knew the answer, though: his father had insisted that he sleep on the upper floor. "What kind of father would I be if I let my own son sleep on a couch?" He'd asked incredulously. Unlike the coffee, Jackson had firmly stood his ground, and Gibbs had to concede in the end. His childhood bedroom was cluttered, so here he was in the guest bedroom.

All tangled up in Kate.

He raised his left hand and slapped himself in the back of the head. As he stared at the pockmarked ceiling, he remembered his father offering Kate his bedroom, willing to sleep on the couch himself (typical parental hypocrisy), and a reluctant Kate had accepted in the end. Gibbs didn't offer to let Kate sleep in the same room as him, so he was surprised that she had found her way to him.

Not that he was complaining, of course.

His thoughts then shifted to the last time he had held a female like that. As in holding a woman the way she deserved to be held, not out of obligation as was the case of his ex-wives. It was the night before his deployment to Iraq as part of Operation Desert Storm, and he'd held Shannon closely, basking in the afterglow of their love-making.

He groaned as he felt himself stir with a vengeance. Why did he have to think of that? A mental flash of Ducky, and it went down fast. 'Saved by the doctor,' he thought with a silent chuckle.

He then thought the day before. After finishing off their coffees in the kitchen, he and Kate had accompanied Jackson to his shop, where they'd spent much of the day catching up. Gibbs found that he hadn't lost his touch of pricing the food cans, like he used to when he was younger, and he noted that Kate was pretty good with a cash register. If she wasn't in the federal sector, she'd make a good cashier...not that he'd tell her that. Something in his gut told him she wouldn't appreciate it.

If he had to admit something though, he thought to himself as he adjusted the sheets over them, it would be that waking up with her in his arms was the best Christmas present he've had. With a small smile on his face, he closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to overtake him once more.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Jackson Gibbs makes an appearance. I hope I did him justice.


	29. Welcoming the Past Year

**A/N:** It's been quite a busy week for me (and the writer's block didn't help, lol). Here's the update, hope you like. :)

Reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental. There are some references to a past episode.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Nine:<strong>  
>Welcoming the Past Year<br>_By GallaudetLurker_

* * *

><p>If she could remain like that for the rest of her life, she would.<p>

From under the veranda that shielded her from the noon sun that threatened to beat down on her, she lazily watched the sea gently swash into the beach before receding away. The sky was bright blue, with nary a cloud in sight, and she found that it reminded him of a certain something – or someone.

Craning her head to the left, she met a pair of blue eyes. She nearly melted at their intensity and snuggled further into the warm body next to her, smiling as his arm tightened around her shoulder. Yeah, she never wanted to move away.

"Well, look at you two. Never thought I'd see ya with a woman anytime soon, Probie – and a beautiful one to boot!"

She smirked as a wizened man appeared and plopped down on the reclining beach chair next to them, a bottle of beer in hand. He was sporting a horseshoe mustache, and his hot pink Hawaiian shirt sharply contrasted with the sky. The conversation that swirled around her seemed to fade away as she watched the mesmerizing currents of the sea.

Never before in her life had she felt so content. She couldn't remember the last time she had spent time with a man like this.

Right at that moment, the sun seemed to grow brighter, steadily overtaking everything with the sheer intensity of its rays, and she instinctively turned her face away. When it faded away at last, she blinked, her vision refocusing, and found herself looking at a gray, pitted ceiling. She frowned at the unfamiliar surroundings for a moment before realizing that she was at Gibbs' father's house.

Closing her eyes, she tightened her hold on the pillow she was holding against her – and found that it wasn't soft or feathery. Keeping her eyes closed, she raised her hand and gently patted the prone form. Her hand covered something firm, and she squeezed it a bit. The soft, masculine grunt from the form caused her eyes to spring open.

As she gaped at the sleeping face of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, so close to hers, only one thought appeared in her mind: she had to be dreaming. She had to. The dream about the beach was probably a false awakening, and she was actually tangled up in the bed in the master bedroom, not sleeping with Gibbs. She felt blood rushing to her face at this double-meaning, and she mentally slapped herself.

When Gibbs didn't fade away or something, she blinked hard, thinking it would do the trick, yet here he was. She did it again, and Gibbs continued to sleep soundly next to her. This time, she felt herself begin to hyperventilate. Her heart leapt into her constricting throat, and her face grew warmer.

_Oh God_, she thought to herself, trying to ignore the way his body felt against hers like in the dream. _Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God._ She slept with him, she actually did it. As if realizing something, she gave herself a quick glance and felt a bit relieved that she was still wearing her nightgown.

Her mind returned to the..._compromising_ position she found herself in. Her heart pounding in her ears, she knew she should get the hell out of that bed and hightail it out of here before he woke up and berated her or—

She closed her eyes with a groan as a particularly impish thought appeared in her mind, as clear as day. She managed to muster enough willpower to force it away, and she took several, calming breaths – and groaned when his musk filled her nose. He smelled damn good, and she shifted a bit when she felt herself throb down there.

'You can do it, Kate,' she thought desperately to herself. 'Just remove your arms from him, get up from the bed, and run like hell!'

She could do it. It was really simple. Yet her arms and legs refused to obey her frantic commands, remaining stubbornly draped over his warm, chiseled form. Staring at her hand resting on his left pec, she cursed the fact that she was snuggling against him, that she didn't want to move away at all, and that she felt so...safe and protected in his arms.

None of her past dates made her feel that way, or least the more recent ones. Only Major Tim Kerry came closest to doing that. She knew it was inappropriate, feeling like this, nevermind the way she felt toward her boss.

Ever since Air Force One, she had felt something of an attraction toward him, and it didn't particularly help that she had a preference for older men. He was a mighty bastard most of the time, and more than a few times, she came close to carrying out her promise to shoot him. Her attraction would've easily dissipated during the two years she worked at NCIS, yet it only intensified. Knowing of his stated belief that romance between agents never worked out – she had vehemently disagreed with that, though – she kept her infatuation to herself.

Not that it was easy working around a man who constantly pressed her buttons (not in that way!), and made her alternate between wanting to shoot him and doing unspeakable things to him in the elevator or her bed—

_Whup!_

The stinging pain on the back of her head helped her face cool down a bit, although her heart continued to beat faster than normal. Her thoughts turned to the past seven months, or rather the way Gibbs had been acting during that time.

To an untrained eye, he was his usual grumpy self; to her profiler eye, something felt off about him. He seemed to act..._different _around her (and the others, to a lesser extent), insisting on pairing up with her on field cases more often. On more than a few occasions, she'd caught him looking at her, and as much as she loved that attention, she couldn't help but notice the look in his eyes. It was...sadness? Melancholy? Something else? It was usually gone in a blink, but she noticed. And that look only happened whenever he looked at her like that, not the others. She had wanted to ask him about that, but something in her gut told her that she wouldn't receive an answer.

And that wasn't all: he seemed to be more proactive on some cases. The way he conducted himself, particularly during interrogations, made her feel that he knew more than he let on. It was as if he already knew who the perpetrator and was simply going through the motions. She'd asked him about it a couple of times, and all she received in reply was "gut feeling" or something to that effect. This only intrigued her more.

Before she could continue her thoughts, she felt him stir and tensed up, her instincts warring with her desires once again. The latter won, and she had to settle on watching him wake up. Each second ticked by in tandem with her pounding heart, and she wasn't sure how he would react.

* * *

><p>He felt himself stir, letting out a soft grunt as the light slowly filtered into his eyes. The nonexistent dream evaporated, and he blinked a couple of times, not remembering a single thing about it. The ceiling slowly sharpened into focus, and he remembered that he was in the guest room in his father's house – and that someone was pressing into his right side.<p>

Turning his head slightly to the right, he saw hazel eyes peering back at him. She looked apprehensive, and he wondered why. He gave her a half-smile, trying not to think too much about the way their bodies fit together, and she slowly returned it. "Morning, Katie." He adjusted his position so that he was sitting up a little, and she adjusted her position accordingly. He involuntarily swallowed when the covers slipped to reveal a black nightgown.

"Morning, Jethro," Kate returned. Gibbs noted that their faces were fairly close, and an irrational thought struck him that, perhaps, he oughta close that distance. His heart speeding up a bit, he let his eyes trail down to her lips, wondering what they tasted like. Would she taste like vanilla or strawberry or something else? Before he knew it, he found himself leaning in, and she doing the same. His breath began to mingle with hers.

The door creaked open, followed by the thumping of a cane. "Son? Breakfast's downstairs if ya—oh my God!" Their lips millimeters away, they sprang apart to see a wide-eyed Jackson standing in the doorway. "Um, I-I'm gonna check on something..." the old man mumbled as he began shuffling away, the clacking of his cane fading in the distance.

He blinked, and she blinked in turn. The silence between them was deafening, and he struggled to find words to convey anything, but he couldn't.

"Uh, ah, breakfast time," he finally croaked out, tossing the covers off him, swinging his legs over the bed, and standing up. Turning, he nearly got hard there and then. Never had the urge to run his hands over the sides of her black nightgown, or pull her in for a kiss, been as strong as it was right now, and the bedhead didn't particularly help.

Through sheer willpower, he somehow managed to avoid making a tent in his shorts or doing anything foolish, and he left the room. The aroma of egg, grits, toast, and coffee assailed his nose, and his stomach growled appreciatively. His father was standing at the counter, pouring a mug of coffee.

Jackson's eyebrows rose as he glanced over. "Mornin' son." He hobbled over to the table with mug and newspaper in hand. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that his father had plenty of questions in his head, and he wasn't looking forward to answering them.

"Mornin', Dad," Gibbs grunted, grabbing a plate and scooping the food into them. He then brewed a cup of coffee, trying not to think about the near-kiss or the sensation of Kate curled against him, before returning to the desk.

There was something of a tradition that he and his father shared, growing up. Gibbs waited patiently as Jackson looked through the newspaper for a couple of moments before picking out the bits he wanted and passing them on to him. Gibbs was glad that the sports section was there. The newly-buried hatchet just burrowed deeper a bit.

"So..." Jackson began, casually reading the newspaper and Gibbs held in a groan, knowing what he was going to say next. "Ya sure she's just an agent?"

"Positively," Gibbs muttered, shoveling a large spoonful of eggs into his mouth.

Jackson looked at him over the top of the paper. "Sure didn't look like it to me." Gibbs responded by biting into his toast and drinking over half of the scalding coffee in one gulp. At the moment, Kate entered the kitchen, dressed in an over-sized sweater, and Gibbs tried to avoid thinking about how good she looked – and about how he wanted to kiss her.

"Good morning, my dear," Jackson greeted with a smile, and Kate returned it. "Good morning, Mr. Gibbs."

Jackson let out a chuckle. "Call me Jackson, or Jack, if you'd like."

Kate nodded, and went over to make a cup of coffee. Gibbs was pretty sure he'd been reading the same line over and over again for the past several moments, and he resisted the urge to turn his head to look at the brunette or something. He raised his mug to his lips – and found it empty. After debating with himself for a moment, he got up and walked over to the coffeemaker.

The tension between them was palpable, and Gibbs tried to think of anything to 'defuse' it. He glanced at her mug, and frowned a bit. "Milk and cream, Katie?"

Kate arched an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. "Wouldn't want you to get hurt or something," she teased. He gave her a half-smirk, remembering what he'd told her on that day, months ago.

"Yeah," he said simply, raising his mug to his lips as he returned to his seat. Ignoring his father's look, Gibbs picked his newspaper up and looked at various pictures of football players on the front page, thoughts of Kate running through his mind.

"So, uh, how did you two meet?"

Gibbs raised his eyebrows as he looked over at his father. Didn't he ask that yesterday at the shop? And did he have to make it sound like they were already dating or something? Kate appeared to think the same thing, but she smiled nevertheless. "We met at Air Force One." Memories of that day flashed in his mind.

Jackson sipped his coffee. "What's that?"

"President's plane," Gibbs replied, flipping through his newspaper. Jackson nodded in understanding.

"I was working in the Secret Service at the time," Kate added, glancing at Gibbs. "We, um, were working on a case, and then Jethro here tried to steal the plane."

Despite himself, Gibbs let out a loud snort. "Wasn't trying to steal the plane. I was merely doing my job," he said midst his chuckles.

"Your job involved stealing the plane!" Kate pointed her fork at him, her eyes boring into his. Gibbs grinned at her as he drank his coffee.

"Well, gotta steal a plane to save the President's life sometimes," he returned. Kate's eyes narrowed a bit, a smile dancing on her lips.

"Sounds like you've had hell of a time," Jackson said with a chuckle, shaking his head. "And to think my own son hijacked a plane... It'd be nice to meet the President though, if only to give him a piece of my mind."

"Don't we all?" Gibbs said with a smirk.

"There's _someone else_ I'd like to give a piece of my mind." Kate gave him a pointed gaze. Gibbs was pretty sure that if given half the chance, she would throw that fork at him like a weapon. And the mug for good measure.

He merely gave her a smirk as he returned to his newspaper.

* * *

><p>She was up to something. He was pretty sure of it.<p>

Gibbs watched Abby rock back-and-forth on the balls of her feet. She was planning a New Year's Eve party at her apartment – "What better way to welcome the New Year than partying with friends?" – and she'd asked him to go. By 'asked', she'd wrapped her arms around him as soon he set foot in the Lab and begged him to come. Repeatedly.

He'd declined, saying that parties weren't his thing. That was certainly true; in the past-next ten years, he'd usually holed up in his basement and counted down to the New Year with each blow of his hammer on his boat. Or ran the sander over his boat with each countdown that blared from his radio, or shot double taps at a screenshot of Ari Haswari (would anyone believe him if he said he'd accidentally printed out extra copies of that picture years ago?).

And besides, he didn't feel like dodging mistletoe. He'd had done plenty of that in the past few days.

Unfortunately, Abby wasn't easily deterred by his declination. "Why won't you come, Gibbman?" She asked with pleading eyes.

Gibbs averted his eyes away, having spent the past ten minutes trying to convince Abby of why he couldn't go. "Abs. I already told you: I ain't interested in parties. Besides, I've got other plans." He suppressed a snort: it sounded stupid, even to himself.

The Goth's eyes sharpened into a glare. "Spending the night cooped-up in that basement of yours doesn't count as a plan, Gibbs!" Her face softened slightly. "Won't you come? Everyone at NCIS's going!"

"Define 'everyone'," he said with a grunt, glancing at one of her main computer monitors. It was displaying what looked like DNA or something.

Abby rolled her eyes. "Everyone as in you, me, Kate, Ziva, Tim, Tony, Ducky, and Jimmy! What, did you think I actually invited _everyone_ in the building?" She put her hands on her sides, pasting on an annoyed face, even although her eyes betrayed her amusement.

Gibbs' face creased into a smirk. "Wouldn't've surprised me, Abs."

"You flatter me too much, Gibbs. I may be good at my job, but I can't fit hundreds of people in my tiny, cramped apartment – although that'd be kinda neat," Abby tilted her head a little in thought before turning to him. "Please say you'll come. Please. Please? _Pleeeeeease?_" She even signed it in ASL for good measure, and he smirked at that. "It won't be the same without you."

"How's that?" Gibbs asked, preparing to invoke Rule 52 should Abby's lip stick out a bit more.

Abby gave him an incredulous look. "You're, like, the life of the party!" She replied with flair, throwing her hands up. "Did you really have to ask _that_, Gibbs?" Her hands were back to her sides once again.

Gibbs let out a laugh at that. "Have to. I'm a NCIS investigator, remember?"

"So am I. Well, not exactly as I'm a forensic scientist, but I do investigate crime scene evidence other stuff that you guys send me." A sly smile broke over Abby's face, and Gibbs found that he wasn't looking forward to what Abby had to say next. "And speaking of investigators, did I mention Kate'll be going?"

He swore his resolve began to waver at the mention of the brunette's name and the fact that she would be going. "Only a couple hundred times," he replied dryly, ignoring the contractions in his gut.

The Goth's grin widened, a gleam in her eyes. "Let's make it two-hundred and one, then. Will you go? Please? I'm sure Kate wants you to go."

"I do," Kate said, entering the lab. Not for the first time, there was a twinge in his heart at the sight of the brunette, and his mind flashed back to Christmas morning.

Abby gave him a smug grin. "See? Will you go?"

He figured it couldn't hurt to give it one more try. "You know why I can't make it, Abs."

Abby rolled her eyes. "Oh _puh-lease_!" She glanced at Kate, who looked confused, and continued. "Gibbs here apparently can't make it. He – get this – has other plans."

He almost felt self-conscious as Kate gave him an once-over, a bemused grin on her face. "Oh, is that it?" She stepped closer to him, and he was overcome by her tantalizing vanilla scent. He had to force his arms to remain by his sides so they couldn't wrap around her or something. "They wouldn't have anything to do with building the boat and sipping bourbon, would it?"

Was that how DiNozzo felt whenever Kate and Ziva ganged up on him? "You tell me, Katie," he said, putting that thought aside, as he began to step around them toward the exit. However, the women blocked his way and he held in a sigh.]

"Why don't you want to go?" Abby asked with a slight pout. "Don't you like any of us?"

Gibbs realized what it was – his ex-wives pulled that tactic on him far too many times than he'd cared to count. "I do," he said, truly meaning it as he looked at the two women, his eyes lingering on one of them a bit longer than necessary. "It's just that...ah...I don't really like parties." He clenched his jaw before continuing on: "Uh, I mean...I don't feel like going insane by DiNozzo's rambling before the New Year begins."

"Well, you don't have to listen to him all night," Kate said with a chuckle. "You could spend time with me." As if realizing what she'd said, Kate glanced down at her fidgeting hands.

His resolve crumbling further, Gibbs supposed that he should curse the fact that he was going soft in old age – except he knew it wasn't the case at all, never mind that he wasn't that old yet. A thought struck him: this would be the first time he welcomed the New Year with her since her death the first time around. And not to mention, 2006 was the year Kate never lived to, and he'd be damned if he wasn't at her side when the ball dropped in New York.

He nodded, feeling his resolve grow once again. "Bring plenty of beer." It'd be worth the torture that was DiNozzo as long he had bourbon and a woman at his side. He blinked at this part, and before he could think on it any further, he felt himself being squeezed within an inch of his life. "Thank you! Thank you!" Abby all but screamed into his ear before stepping back, her hands still on his shoulders. "We're gonna have an awesome time!"

As he wheezed slightly, his eardrums stinging, he looked at a beaming Kate.

Yeah, the torture would be worth it.

* * *

><p>"Hell of a party, isn't it?"<p>

Gibbs turned to look at Fornell, who was reclining on the couch next to him. He shook his head with a smirk as he returned his attention to the TV. It was a recap of the match between the Redskins and the Giants that took place over a week before, and the Redskins were winning so far.

"Yeah." He sipped his Budweiser. He hadn't gone to Abby's apartment often in the past-next ten years, so he'd been somewhat surprised to find that it wasn't covered with Goth stuff. Well, there were few posters and the furniture was Gothic black, but that was pretty much it.

"You know, I'm surprised she invited me," Fornell remarked, swishing his bottle.

"Me too," Gibbs half-joked, causing the FBI agent to chuckle.

It appeared that Abby invited a bit more people than she said (not that he was surprised).

DiNozzo was flirting with Ziva in the kitchen (and receiving eyerolls in return), Kate was conversing with Abby and Ducky nearby, Palmer was chatting with McGee near the hallway, and a couple of agents he didn't recognize was standing around, holding their drinks. Kathy was sitting on Jerry's lap on the reclining chair, enjoying their beer.

For a brief moment, he swore he saw Kate and himself there, and shook his head. It didn't take long for his eyes to gravitate to Kate, however, and he felt something stir in his loins when he looked at the brunette. She was wearing a white blouse and dark skirt, and his eyes trailed down her shapely legs, imagining for a moment them wrapped around his—

He gave himself a mental headslap and refocused on the game.

"Something on your head, Jethro?" Fornell's smile was slightly mischievous, like he knew something Gibbs didn't, and Gibbs couldn't help but get that feeling of foreboding.

"Oh, just lookin' forward to seeing the ball drop in New York," Gibbs replied sardonically, willing his beer to wash the feeling away.

Fornell looked at him for a long moment, his smirk widening. "We all do, my friend, we all do." He took a swig of his beer before continuing, "Got any New Year's resolutions in mind?"

Gibbs let out a laugh. "Do I look like I do that crap, Tobias?"

The FBI agent shrugged. "New Year, fresh start. Can't hurt to improve yourself in some way, y'know?"

"Well, yeah, got one for you: don't take used things."

Fornell gave him a deadpan stare. "Only if you stop divorcing women."

"Already doing that, Tobias," Gibbs said. "Seriously, though, I'm too old for that stuff." One of the players tackled his opponent with such a force that it actually made him wince. It brought back memories of tryouts in sophomore year of high school.

"No, you're not." He jolted at the voice, and he felt the couch dip when Kate sat down next to him, two beer bottles in hand. She was sitting so close to him that their legs were practically touching. "Beer?"

Noticing his own bottle was nearly empty, he gave her a half-smirk before draining it. "Thanks, Katie." He took the new bottle. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Fornell grinning at him, and turned his head. "What?"

The balding agent shook his head, returning to the TV. "Nothing." Gibbs gave him a disbelieving look.

"So, what's your New Year's resolution? And don't you say you're old for that stuff or anything like that!" Kate said the last part with a light glare, and Gibbs couldn't help the rumble of laughter that spilled from his throat.

"My resolution's..." He pretended to think it over. "...don't make New Year's resolutions." Kate thumped him on the shoulder.

"Seriously."

Gibbs returned her look. "Serious as a heart attack, Katie."

Kate shook her head as she drank the beer. "Your New Year resolution's...?" She prompted. He didn't know if it was these large, doe-like eyes, or her vanilla scent, or her close proximity, or if it was the beer, but he found himself mulling over his resolutions.

"Hunt down and kill criminals," he replied at last. "That's my resolution."

Kate gave him raised eyebrows, amusement evident in her eyes. "You already do that, all year long."

He tilted his head. "That means I'm good at resolutions, then."

Kate snorted. "Sure you are."

"Most people don't even follow through on their resolutions for too long." Gibbs raised his shoulders, ignoring Fornell's snickering.

Kate turned her body slightly toward him. "I'm surprised you know that."

"Jethro's full of surprises," Fornell cut in before Gibbs could make a reply.

Kate's eyes twinkled as she sipped her beer. "Ain't that the truth."

Gibbs rolled his eyes, turning to the FBI agent. "Don't ya have a resolution to work on or something?"

Fornell's laugh lines deepened. "Oh, I thought you were too old for that?"

Gibbs gestured at Kate with his head. "She said that I'm not too old, so I gotta take her word for that." Kate cuffed him again, harder this time.

"Not too old for what?" DiNozzo walked up, Ziva behind him. "Er, not that you're too old or anything like that, boss!"

Gibbs was about to make a vague reply, but Fornell beat him to it. "Resolutions." He shot the FBI agent a light glare, and received an innocent smile in return.

A grin came across the Special Agent's face. "Resolutions? They're lotsa fun, quite a nice way to start the new year. Why, my resolution is to—"

"—stop making stupid movie references?" Kate interrupted, and Gibbs shared a chuckle with Fornell and Ziva.

DiNozzo gave her the stink-eye. "Only if you stop harping on poor, little me like that," he sneered.

"That'll be the day Hell freezes over," Kate retorted, crossing her legs.

"That would be quite the day, would it not?" Ducky commented, holding a glass of red wine in his hand. He glanced at the TV and smiled. "Ah, football. Quite a delightful sport where players with strong physique run around, smashing into each other in their oft-futile effort to catch the ball."

"We gotta find our balls sometimes, Duck," Gibbs said, sipping his beer. Kate put her hand over her mouth, and Ducky looked amused.

"And DiNozzo here has not found any," Ziva piped in, and there were chuckles around. The man himself looked decidedly unamused. "That's a low blow, Zee-veed," he muttered, glaring at the Israeli.

"Well, she's Mossad. You should know that, Tony," Abby said, patting DiNozzo's shoulder patronizingly. She then turned to Gibbs. "Can you believe the new year's almost upon us, G-Man?"

"Yeah, time moves fast," Gibbs commented lightly. To think that he'd been in 2015 at the beginning, and now here he was, about to move into 2006. But at least he was surrounded by his friends and co-workers this time around.

Abby nodded. "Tell me about it. A year ago, Tony here was handcuffed to a dangerous criminal. His GPS tracker wasn't working and he was alone with someone who could kill him with his bare hands – and we wouldn't know it! Ohmigod, we could've lost you for good, Tony!" She latched into DiNozzo and squeezed him hard.

"Yeah...but you didn't," DiNozzo groaned, trying to remove Abby's vice-like hold on him. "And I took care of him, remember?"

Abby released him. "Yes, but all this wouldn't have happened if you allowed me to put the chip in your neck!" She put her hands on her sides, glaring at him for a moment.

"Think of all the possibilities," Kate said with a grin. Ziva had a gleam in her dark eyes.

DiNozzo grimaced. "Yeah...no. Don't feel like having chips implanted inside me."

Gibbs cocked his head. "Thought you liked the _Matrix_?"

DiNozzo looked surprised. "Uh, yeah, I do. But, actually, they – the machines – don't exactly put microchips inside you..." Gibbs found himself zoning out already. "...they more like plug you into this massive mainframe, using you like human batteries to power up the virtual world—"

"Here you go, breaking your resolution before you even made one," Kate said dryly, taking a large gulp from her beer. Gibbs gave her a half-smirk as he held up his bottle for her to clink hers with. DiNozzo glowered at her.

Abby smiled and shook her head at this. She glanced at the overhead clock and nearly did a double-take. "Everyone, gather around! It's nearly here!" She grabbed the remote and switched to the ZNN channel, which showed a pretty news reporter surrounded by crowds in New York. Gibbs looked at his wristwatch. It was 11:59 PM. When did time move so fast?

Glancing at Kate, he found her looking at him, her eyes bright. Something coiled in his gut, and he swallowed as he looked at her slightly parted lips. His heartbeat began to speed up and he found himself wanting to taste these lips. Barely hearing Abby and DiNozzo chant the countdown, Gibbs continued to look at her, the urge to do something potentially foolish growing by the second.

Before he even knew it, he reached out to stroke her cheeks gently. He heard her sharp intake of breath, and smiled a little. Her chest was heaving ever so slightly, her eyes darkening, and he involuntarily licked his lips, she doing the same.

As fireworks and cheers erupted around them, Gibbs took a deep breath and pulled her into a kiss.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I'm kinda iffy on the ending. I rewrote it several times, and still. But at least we got the kiss out of the way. Onward to some action!

...

Not _that_ kind of action, mind you – although that'll happen someday, lol. Well, it already happened once before, but that was a dream. It hasn't happened in real-life—look at me, I'm rambling.


End file.
